The Son Of Mindoir
by Sundown-Native
Summary: As the threat of the Collectors fade into nothingness, Shepard finds himself thinking about his life, the current objective, and his newfound love for a certain super biotic. Now, the past becomes the present, and Shepard returns to where it all began.
1. I'm Not Supposed To Care

_"You sure that's what you want? You're taking a hell of a risk, Shepard."_

_"I don't think so. I'm going to stop the Reapers, but I won't sacrifice the soul of our species to do it."_

_

* * *

_

**...And so the setting was set.**

**Shepard had no doubt in his mind that The Illusive Man would come for him. "Betrayal" does that, sometimes. However, Shepard's act of betrayal was dwarfed by the many times the Illusive Man sought to do the same, or outright get him killed.**

**But it didn't matter now. The threat of Cerberus paled in comparison to the now approaching Reaper fleet.**

**James made his way down to engineering, where repairs were being made from the fight with the oculi. Stepping over a few loose cables, the commander would make his down the room, nearly bumping in Thane, in the process. A quick nod was forwarded the drell's way, before James stepped to the right, allowing Krios to pass. A few steps would bring him halfway into the hangar, where Garrus, Grunt, and Joker had been, assisting with the repairs. A hole burned into the hangar by the oculus served as a window to the dark void, to which James had stared into, halfway expecting the "vanguards of their destruction" to appear. Perfect time to annihilate their enemy, if there ever was one. Shepard's gaze was broken by Joker, who had lent the schematics of an unknown Reaper to him. Another nod was given, and James began to look over what he believed to be Harbinger.**

**In less than a second, something hit him. Shepard had passed damn near everyone on this ship. Keywords "Damn near everyone." Someone had been missing. And he had already known who was. Shepard had set the schematics on the edge of a crate, and had exited the hangar.**

**With each step he took down those stairs, a metallic thump sounded off. Shepard's entire being had been encased by the hue of the red lights leading down them, up until he cleared the steps, altogether. When he did, he had found the one that was missing. Shepard had squinted his eyes, and folded his arms. The usual was about to happen.**

* * *

"Jack." Shepard had called out.

But she did not answer. She didn't even make the effort to acknowledge the fact that he was standing there.

"I'm talking to you." Shepard had said, losing his temper.

"FUCK OFF!" Jack retorted. She still did not look at him; she closed her eyes to prevent herself from doing so.

"I'm not going anywhere." Shepard had said, taking a step further. "So all of a sudden, you're like this, again? Didn't you say you were going to take this seriously?"

"I..."

Whatever she wanted to say, had been unable to come out, once she attempted to speak. After a while, her hands had run up against her head.

"Leave me alone." Jack said.

"No, Jack." Shepard replied, still in the same position as before. "This little cycle you're going though needs to stop."

"You could have DIED, Shepard!" Jack shouted, finally getting the gall to look him in the eye. "You could have fucking died, and left me here! I told you this wouldn't work - this never works. It's a waste of godamned ti-"

"Jack." Shepard had said, walking towards her. "I'm still here."

As he approached, Jack turned away. His hands would come up, gently nudging Jack's face back towards his own. Blue hues would meet with dark brown hues as Shepard repeated.

"I'm still here."

Jack's arms had flung around Shepard's neck, and she began to cry. Shepard had returned the hug.

"Shit..How did I let you talk me into this.." Jack had said, her head lying against Shepard's.

"I'm not supposed to care..."


	2. Eyes And History

_"Something you don't know, huh? Obvious stuff like 'what's up with my ink', or something just as boring?"_-

_"You're not really interested unless it affects you. I've been through this shit before."_

_"I could be genuine. You have no way of knowing."_

_"I have eyes, and I have history. You'll back off, as soon as you realize you're not the first, and I'm immune to your help."_

* * *

**Or that was what she thought.**

**Nighttime. Or at least, it had been, in standard Earth hours. It had been one of those nights - one of those few nights - where Jack had kept to herself, down at the bottom of Engineering. As far as she knew, Shepard'd been sleep, as were most of the crew; keeping dock at the Citadel for repairs and supplies.**

**The day they'd gone to see the Citadel was almost over. With everyone getting an early night? Shouldn't be hard to go about her own business. Without someone involving themselves in her shit. She already had Shepard for that.**

**Shepard...**

* * *

_"I was thinking about you and...Maybe you're right. That I need.."_

_"Did I fucking say that?"_ Jack asked herself. _"Why th-Why the FUCK did I SAY that!" _Jack's hands had gone up against her head, teeth clenching, and temper flaring. Biotics subconsiously arose, lifting up a few datapads around her. Left foot began tapping the floor rapidly.

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

She suddenly thought of current situation - something she didn't allow herself to do since the traveling to the Collector base. She had bunked most nights up in Shepard's cabin, _cuddled_ with him. She'd even gone to see a movie with half of the damn squad.

_She was getting soft._

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

The biotics were getting more active. The Carnifex laying beside her began to rise, and the crates in front of her began to shake, uncontrollably. There was enough evidence of 'softness' on her part to make her cringe. Was she becoming...Normal?

No.

She wasn't normal.

She was never normal.

She would never be normal.

And fuck Shepard for trying to make her that way.

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

She'd spent too much time on the ship. She needed a dose of reality. To see that the galaxy as she knew it..Was still the galaxy as she knew it. Dark brown hues scanned the area around her. Not much evidence of her existence, down here. Hell, she'd doubt the rest of the crew'd even notice she was gone.

Not even Shepard.

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

Hands slowly slid from her head to her face, her eyes peeking through the middle of her fingers. The tapping stopped. And a decision was made. Jack reached for the heavy pistol beside her, and concealed it on the right side of her half worn jumpsuit. She stood up, spinning to her left, and practically bolted for the stairs.

In no sooner than 4 minutes, Jack arrived at the CIC, intent on leaving the Normandy. She was right; not soul breathed, in path she was headed, save for Joker, who, as usual, could be seen at the head of the ship.

"May I ask your destination, Ms. Jack?" EDI called out, damn near taking Jack - who was halfway down the bridge, to the airlock - by surprise. "None of your goddamn business." Jack had said, coldly. "And if you, or creak tell anyone I'm gone, I'll fucking kill you both."

"Ms. Jack, to be killed, I would need to b-"

"Yeah, you're better off not explaining that, mom." Joker cut in quickly, pretending that he never even saw Jack coming. The act continued until she exited the _Normandy_, upon which he immedieately said, while watching buttons, "Did she just call me creak? Did I just hear that?"

"You are correct, Jeff." EDI would answer.

"Thought I did." Joker said, still watching the buttons.


	3. Eyes And History, Pt 2

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

_Thump_

"Playing hard to get, J-"

...

"Jack?"

* * *

**She got far. VERY far. She should've been surprised, but somehow? She wasn't. Figured as much, they'd not even try.**

**To her, the further she got away from the _Normandy_, the more she knew that her place wasn't there. Not with users.**

**Not with _Cerberus._**

**Jack had been inside a club that just reopened. Chora's Den. Some other businessmen had been working to get the den's reputation back on its feet, saying that, under new management, Chora's Den would not end up the same as its predecessor.**

**The fact that the scene was all too familiar with Jack made that claim no more - or less - than lip service.**

* * *

She took a table all to herself, at one of the corners of the gentlemen's club. Apart from the rest of them, she stood out, as usual. Might've helped to get a seat by herself, but it didn't stop the occasional sleazeball from playing the hotshot card with her.

But it got her thinking. _"What the fuck?"_ Jack said, after downing her 13th shot of of Batarian Ale. _"Do they not see the signs? Can't they see I DON'T want to be fucked with!"_

_"There are plenty of enough sluts in this shithole to last the entire club. Why the hell do they keep bothering __**ME**__?"_

_"Shit...C'mon. You're tougher than this. You're __**STRONGER**__ than this."_

_"And if those fucks want to forget? __**It's**__. __**Their**__. __**Funeral."**_

Her right hand found a grip on one of the glasses surrounding her table. She held her head low, her teeth clenching together every 2 seconds.

Across the den stood 11 men. Blue Suns. One of whom was a turian. Markings absent. He had a sling on his right arm, and his left mandible was slightly out of place, compared to the other one. The 10 other men seemed to have been following him, suggesting that he was the leader of the pack. After a few traded words to his human and turian comrades, the leader's eyes had gone across the room, to where Jack had been sitting. At that very instant, his left mandible weakly cluttered. He caught his men's attention, pointing to Jack, who was oblivious to the entire thing.

The group had made their way to her. Once they were there, they surrounded the table, with the leader taking a seat right across from her.

"...Hello, Jack." The turian spoke. Jack did not answer, but was fully aware of the situation.

"You may not remember me; I don't expect you too. Too busy clearing through the lot of us to get a good look."

"But I remember all too well. I remember the screaming. I remember the gunfire. I remember the destruction."

"I remember the pain of being tossed into a metal wall. I can do more than remember. I can **FEEL** it."

Jack still didn't not answer. But her grip on the glass cup tightened. The turian's nerves were being aggravated by the fact that she was, evidently, ignoring him.

"You cost us a lot of money that day." The turian said, angrily.

"And I'll be damned if we don't collect every. Single. Bit of it."

Oh yeah. He was looking to get hurt. Jack's teeth tightened together even more than they already had, and the table at which she, and the turian sat, began to shake, slightly. This alarmed all eleven men, who stood guard, ready to fight. More likely ready to expect a biotic assault.

Yeah. More likely.

The Jack's grip tightened to extreme levels. And as a result, the glass she had been holding shattered in the palm of her hands.

She did not flinch.

She did not winch at the pain.

Blood began to ooze from the cuts sustained from the glass' imploding, and began to paint the white metal table with a crimson red. The turian's eyes looked down, to the blood...

At that very instant, Jack's cut hand - shards of glass embedded - became an open palm. And that open palm was sent straight into the right eye of the leader of the Blue Suns.

The turian screamed in pain, and it was then that Jack brought the biotics, a quick field was put up, pushing the guards - and the turian leader - away from her. The table she sat at flipped over, conveniently providing her with cover from the oncoming gunfire.

"KILL HER!" The turian, eye destroyed from the attack, had shouted. He backed away from the area, letting the others deal with this problem. Assault rifles and heavy pistols revealed, the Blue Suns began opening fire onto the table.

Needless to say, the patrons and employees cleared the hell out.

With every break, Jack got off five shots. The first took care of two Suns; one took a hit to the head, another to the throat. 9 left.

Second break, three suns. One hit in the kneecaps, then the peak of his head. One to the chest, the other to the jaw. 6 left.

Her cover was wearing out. Chunks of the table flew in front of her when every shotgun sounded off. Each blast got closer to hitting her then the others did. Jack took to one solution. She stood up, biotics flaring.

A blast knocked the remaining six onto their backs, again.

But the blast did not kill them.

More importantly, it didn't come from her.

A shocked Jack would look across the room to see a familiar figure standing in the doorway, Carnifex at the ready.

_"...Shepard.."_


	4. Eyes And History, Pt 3

_**There they were.**_

_**Jack and James.**_

_**The Convict and The Colonist.**_

_**The two had been standing across the room from each other. Words unspoken, but they both knew what the topic would be. James' right hand was gripped onto the handle of the Carnifex, left hand stuck out, surrounded by biotics auras.**_

_**She'd forgotten he was one. Like her.**_

_**...Like the other children.**_

* * *

"Let's go." Shepard'd broke the ice, backtracking out of the Den. Jack had quickly followed, forgetting that the men, who were shooting at her minutes ago, were still alive - just briefly incapacitated.

"More Suns are out front." Shepard had said, taking to cover as he spoke. "They'll be ready for us."

But Jack did not. She stood there, eyes on her 'beloved'. She was irritated. Not because of what he said, but because of his apparent ignorance.

"Just get it over with, Shepard." Jack spat.

But no response was given. Shepard's blue hues looked towards her, staring into her eyes. Oh, he was going to talk. The conversation was going to happen. But not now. Not while they're under fire.

Shepard cocked his head to the opposite waist-height wall. A repitition of "get your ass into cover" if informing her that the Suns were waiting outside wasn't prompting enough. Jack stomped over the destination, intent on getting this out of the way before they'd get to the Normandy, where she wouldn't be able to walk from it. From this thing between them.

A heat sink replacement later, Shepard'd look back to the entrance to Chora's Den, and it was then that he'd remember.

"Shit!" Shepard got up, aiming the Carnifex as carefully as he could, under pressure, and took down five Suns - each with a headshot - before they got a chance to fire. Sounds of gunfire being enough, the door in which they were in cover for, from the beginning, opened. And 15 more Suns poured in.

Shepard took back to cover quickly enough to escape with only a strand of hair singing off. The overwhelming began again, with the suns firing onto their position with a barrage of assault rifles, heavy pistols, and shotguns. From where they were, there'd been no advantage. There had been no leveled ground between them and the assailants, no point in which they would return fire, without being shot, themselves. There was nothing they could do.

They were trapped.

Knowing this, Jack had sat down, back against the cold wall, and began to chuckle. "Figured it'd end something like this." Jack had said, smiling weakly. The heavy pistol in her possession slumped to the floor, the clacking sound being muffled by constant gunfire.

She WAS right, wasn't she? She'd told Shepard from the beginning that it'd hurt. That it'd suck.

And he was wrong. He was DEAD WRONG. This wasn't fun.

This wasn't fun, at all.

The smile had long since faded.

Shepard'd realized something. The neural degeneration report. How it changed her. Made her stronger. He was a biotic, too, though fresh from ressurection; something could be made of this. He reevaluated the battlefield.

The venue was still the same as it was when Fist was running it. Not a damn thing changed. The same neon signs of naked asari just outside of the entrance. The same type of people that frequented it. The same feel, the same music. The same drinks, the same 'employees'.

The same unsupported two way bridge that led to it.

The SAME unsupported two way bridge that they were currently pinned down on.

"Jack." Shepard had said, still concentrating on the fighting. Jack did not answer. "JACK!" he shouted, to which she'd simply turn her head, his way.

"We can get out of this, but I'm going to need your help. This bridge isn't stable - not entirely. We can finish this easy, and fast."

Jack had immediately caught wind of what Shepard was implying. She raised a brow. She wasn't convinced.

"Doing that would break the bridge, Shepard." Jack said, matter of factly.

Shepard would look towards her. Gave her a look that told her he knew. That he didn't care. A smirk slowly crept onto her face.

"You fucker." She'd say. "Right now, then?"

"We need a distraction." Shepard had shouted, over the gunfire. Little did they both know, a distraction was well on its way.

One of the Suns had been carrying a grenade launcher. He revealed it, intent on blowing the the two sky high. With one pull of the trigger, the grenade launcher fired onto the wall, exploding upon impact, and encasing the right bridge entirely in smoke. The gunfire died down. The Suns were sure they were dead, but entirely; their weapons were still at arms, waiting for anything to give the slightest doubt, so that they'd fire, yet again.

The bridge began to shake. Some Suns dropped their weapons at the sudden movement. Others staggered. The quake intensified. The Suns had gotten their answer, but now, it was too late.

The biotics were alive. And they were firing back.

Creaking had followed the rumbling, and the Suns had struggled to get a hold of their guns. One had looked to the other side, catching a glimpse of blue flames.

Shepard stood up. Eyes closed, hands held high.

Jack had followed. Eyes wide open, teeth grating together.

The bridge began snapping off of whatever support it had. And within a second, all of the 15 Blue Suns jerked forward, into the air; slingshotted to the depths below.

The danger had passed, and a combined effort was undertaken to place the bridge back into place, as tattered as it might have been. They still needed to get across.

Once pass the bridge, Shepard would conceal his pistol. He turned on his left heel, and began to walk toward the door. "Let's head back to the Normandy." He'd call. But Jack had not forgotten.

"I'm not going." Jack had said, staying in the same spot.

"Don't be stupid, Jack - more Suns are going t-"

"SO WHAT! They die too! Don't fucking care, let them try! I'll kill all of those bastards!"

"We could barely hold our own against 15 of them, Jack, what're the chances they..."

Shepard had noticed blood, trickling down from her right hand. He'd moved his left to point to it.

"What happened to your hand?" Shepard had said, visibly worried.

"It's nothing."

"The hell it isn't!" Shepard moved to her, and attempted to grab onto her arm, intent on inspecting the damage. "Did this happen in the Den?"

When he grabbed onto it, Jack had jerked her arm away from his hand. A shard that had still been embedded in her hand tore down to her wrist, when she did, thereby making her condition worse.

"I SAID IT'S NOTHING!" Jack shouted. "Goddamn it, Shepard, don't you listen!" She tried her best to block out the tears.

"We need to get you to the Normandy." Shepard had said, nudging her towards the door. Jack pushed away, and Shepard pushed back. "If we don't treat you now, it's going to get worse!" Shepard'd said. "I can take care of myself!" Jack had said, turning around, to face Shepard. "Now LET.." Jack had sent a punch to Shepard's stomach, in full force, causing him to double over. "GO!" Jack had finished, sending a biotic blast into Shepard's chest, which threw him across the room, and into the wall. Shepard had hit the floor with a thud, and grunted. Being the tough son of a bitch he was, Shepard stood up, wincing from the pain gathered by slamming into the wall, and the punches that sent him into it. He walked towards Jack.

"Jack..." Shepard would say, between grunts. "We don't have time to deal with this bullshit! Blue Suns are coming. And if they don't get you, C-Sec will." Shepard had come to a stop, a few feet away from her. "We need to leave, N-"

A gunshot rang out. Shepard paused.

He'd look over to his left shoulder. Blood was pouring from the shirt he'd been wearing. A horrified Jack would look towards Shepard. She was losing the battle with her tears.

"Shepard..." Jack called, voice beginning to break. Shepard would look up to her.

A gunshot rang out. Shepard fell forward, crashing onto the steel floor.

"SHEPARD!" Jack screamed.

When he fell, the culprit was seen.

"You cost us too much..."

The turian leader, now carrying more bruises than he had when he initially appeared, had his right hand gripped upon a Predator, aimed in the direction where Shepard once stood.

"I'll be damned..." The turian continued, struggling to position the gun on Jack.

"If I don't collect...Every.."

Heat sink ejected.

"Single.."

Grip was tightened.

"Credit."

Before he could get a shot off, the arm in which the gun was being with with...Snapped into two. The turian yelped. Then a third snap, at the forearms, downed him.

Jack's tears had won the fight, and they rolled slowly down her face. But she was angry. She was VERY angry. She had been breathing hard. Teeth were clenched back together. Her eyes were focused solely on the turian. Biotics began to flare up.

The turian was lifted off the ground, limbs stretched out. He had been in serious pain. He could not move. He could barely breathe. The pain in both his arms had taken away his ability to do so.

But torture wasn't enough. This turian had made a mistake. A bad mistake. The punishment had to just as bad as the mistake.

Torture was out of the question.

This turian had to die.

Painfully.

The strength she acquired during her escape from the Purgatory ship had come back to her. And with it, memories. She remembered sliding past the door; only thing blocking her way out. She remembered seeing two guards. One of which called out.

"STOP!"

She remembered taking the both of them out. The first to die had been the batarian. Slammed him against the glass. She was pretty sure all his bones were shattered. Then came the other guard. The one who called out to her. He tried to get a shot off at her. Big mistake. She hit him with a biotically charged punch, sending him into the Purgatory's gray, metal walls.

...Metal walls...

And then it hit her. She remembered everything.

There were two guards...One, a batarian. The second, a turian.

This was the turian.

"You wanted revenge, you _bony little fuck_! _**HUH**_!" Jack had screamed. The turian's limbs stretched out. More so than they were supposed to. The turian could not respond. The pain he was suffering was unbearable."

"...Say hello to Kuril, for me."

And within that very instant, the turian exploded. Blue mists of blood spattered all over the walls.

Jack's attention immediately swung towards Shepard, who was still lying prone, on the floor. Jack darted to his position, trying her best to bring him to stand.

"Shit..C'mon, Shepard, stand the fuck up!" She said, as she struggled. Shepard's right arm was slung over her shoulder, and Jack had begun to carry him out of the hall.

They were en route to the Normandy.


	5. Eyes And History, Pt 4

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

_Beep_

* * *

**Shepard and Jack have made it to the Normandy, and were being tended to, inside of the infirmary. The ship has long since departed the Citadel, until things calmed down, and C-Sec drops the investigation. A course had been set for Omega.**

**Although they'd eventually receive more trouble from the Suns, now, they acquired the time to rest. No mission was gained, no favors were called in. No visiting. No sightseeing.**

**A gunfight they barely survived was good enough.**

* * *

Jack's right forearm was almost finished with being bandaged by Dr. Chakwas, who had extracted the glass that tore through her skin. They'd had been sitting at a table, across from each other. Standing at the exit - behind Jack - had been Miranda Lawson and Garrus Vakarian; both of which had their own reasons with being concerned about the situation.

"You couldn't stay inside the ship, could you?" Miranda said, arms folded. "You could have gotten the commander killed."

"But he's not." Jack answered, inattentively. "How about you save the bitch fit for later, cheerleader? I'm not in the mood." Jack's eyes had been focused on her own hand. She could see a narrow streak of blood forming vertically down her forearm, though it was almost transparent.

"What were you doing outside, in the first place?" A curious Garrus asked.

"Needed some fresh air."

"In a space station?"

"Change of scenery."

"You mean you needed to shoot something."

"Y'know what - I don't need to explain myself." Jack just gave up. The same inattentive tone was evident, in her speech.

"I left. We fought. We came back. That's it."

Miranda shook her head. "Shepard almost DIED. Do y-"

"Garrus?" Jack said, cutting her off. "Apparently, the cheerleader ain't able to understand that the bossman ISN'T dead. So could you repeat that to her..." Jack's left arm rose up, pointing back to Miranda. "..Before I paint the walls with that bitch?"

Dr. Chakwas had finished the last strap.

Before Miranda could respond, a cough was heard from the bed, where Shepard had been resting. His right shoulder and abdomen had been wrapped in bandages, and his arm had been encased in a sling. Jack had gotten up, quickly, moving toward Shepard, without thinking.

"You can't do that." Dr. Chakwas called. Jack had stopped, turning and raising a brow towards her.

"Why?" Jack asked.

"Because you need your rest. And so does Shepard." Chakwas answered.

"Right. So I rest with him." Jack concluded, turning around to continue her path towards Shepard. Dr. Chakwas called after her, again.

"Jack...I can't allow you to disturb him." This caused Jack to stop, once more. But she did not turn.

"Try and stop me."

When she said that, she could almost feel that a gun was being aimed at her head. Eyes moved to the right, and there she saw Garrus, Incisor Sniper Rifle aimed squarely at her face.

"Shepard has 5 broken ribs, and his right arm is fractured." Dr. Chakwas explained. " The wounds he sustained from those gunshots were not close - nor that powerful enough - to cause those sort of injuries."

"So..." Garrus added, mandibles parting. "Why don't you tell us what REALLY happened, at the Den?"

Pointless, now. Suns weren't known for biotic abilities. She could blame it on the heavy weapons they carried, but once news got a hold of this - and it eventually would - it'd backfire on her.

Jack shrugged. "I hit him. Really fucking hard. Bastard flew across the hall."

"You WHAT!" Miranda shouted, taking a step forward, but was stopped, by Garrus.

"Pissed me off - told him not to, but he did, anyway. Guess he thought it was just gonna slide." Jack scoffed. "Fuck that, and fuck him."

"I can't have you near Shepard if you're going to be a danger to him. Or to anyone else." Dr. Chakwas concluded. "I think you should rest, down in Engineering, for now."

_'A danger to Shepard'_. To Jack, it sounded so similar to her initial warning to Shepard. Where she'd end up killing him. God knows she didn't want to. She didn't even realize she'd hurt him until _after_ the doctor diagnosed the injuries. He was tough. Tough, but stubborn. Her feelings wouldn't let her kill him, and she was DAMN sure not about to kill herself. Not for him. Not for anyone. There was only one way to end this.

"Whatever, lady." Jack said, turning away from Shepard, and heading to the door, shoving past Miranda. The three looked back, as she departed, and the doors hissed shut.

Two days pass. The Normandy was now docked at Omega.

Jack had been walking down the bridge, once more. But with more than just a pistol. This time, she had a bag, with her, slinged over her shoulder. Filled with everything she had, which wasn't much. A few change of clothes, and a couple of datapads. No one had been at the cockpit, this time. Good. She didn't need the attention.

But she was about to get it.

"Jack."

When her named was called, she practically jolted to a stop. She felt like crying. But fuck that - she needed to be strong.

"Shepard."

"Where are you going?"

"Where do you think?"

Shepard had shaken his head. He'd have folded his arms, but he was still injured. He settled on adjusting his right arm, so that it wouldn't hurt, so much.

"...Were you even planning on telling me?"

"You've been around Shepard; you know what to expect."

"Jack-"

"Shepard, I'm DONE." Jack said, turning around. "I can't keep doing this shit. It'll fuck us BOTH up. Hell, I'm doing you a goddamn favor!"

"I didn't ask for one." Shepard said, shrugging. He took a step forward. "I don't even want one. I don't want anything from you, Jack."

"Well, thanks, Shep. That just made this a hell of a lot easier." Jack said, turning around, to leave.

"Jack, that's not what I meant, and you know it." Shepard called, moving to block her way to the airlock. Jack nearly bumped into him, but stopped, before she could. She sighed, and shook her head.

"Move." Jack said.

"No." Shepard replied.

"Shepard, get the fuck out of my way." Jack said, now irritated.

"No." Shepard repeated, a little more stern.

Jack's voice rose. "If you don't fucking move right now, I'll-"

"You'll kill me?" Shepard said, cutting her off.

"Then do it. Because that's the only way I'm letting you go."

"You..."

Jack wanted to just...do SOMETHING. But she couldn't. She was already beaten the minute Shepard caught her leaving.

"...You suck, man." Jack's voice broke, but she cleared her throat to play it off. Jack had let go of the bag, letting it fall to the floor. "Alright, you wanna play? Fine. But I've got ground rules. Rule number one, I'm doing whatever the fuck I want. You don't stop me. Your friends don't stop me."

"And if what you're doing jeopardizes the mission?" Shepard asked.

"Then I'll make up for it in your cabin." Jack said, shrugging. "Which brings me to my next rule. I'm on top."

And Shepard began laughing his ass off. "That so?"

"**Very** so. You even so much as nudge me to the side, and I'll own your ass. Fair warning." Jack would give a small smirk, but it soon faded away.

"And the next fucking time you leave this ship, Put your goddamn armor on. If I'm gonna be stuck here, I'm gonna be stuck here because of you."

"Alright, Jack." Shepard said, still amused "I get your point."

"Fucking better." Jack said, folding her arms. "'Cause if you screw up, I'll haunt the hell out of you."

"Duly noted." Shepard replied.

Jack had walked over to Shepard, grabbing the back of his neck, and pulling him to her, locking themselves into a kiss. Being jerked forward like that hurt Shepard. But he could tough it out. The pain was worth it.

Jack had broken away from the kiss, turned away from Shepard, and began to walk back to the elevator.

"You know where to find me."

Shepard watched her leave, with a smile on his face. Within a few seconds, however, he realized something.

"Jack, you forgot your-"

Jack had entered the elevator, and its doors closed shut.

"...Bag."


	6. No One Matters

_ _1:16 A.M._ _

* * *

He was in his private quarters, lying atop the bed. Legs crossed, length half of the comforting structure. His back had been arched against the rest, supported by two pillows. His breathing steady. His eyes alert. The room was silent, save for the ship's humming. Save for the waters that made the aquarium to his right. Save for Shepard's own breaths, though silent, they may be.

In his hands lay a datapad, held firmly at his abdomen. His eyes, a cold, icy blue, would scan across the words he himself had typed upon it. He blinks once, and then slightly shakes his head. He moves his right hand to the keys below the screen, radiating a bright orange color.

_***Erasing***_

Shepard's hands would both move to the keys, clacking with an unbalanced rhythm. He stops, and takes a deep breath. His heartbeat rises, along with this motion, falling back into the ordinary, as Shepard exhales. He repeats his evaluating gaze, upon the pad.

* * *

_I don't know how I'm going to say this, so I'm just going to come out and say it._

_I like you, Jack._

_...Actually. No. I don't. I don't like you._

_Before you ditch this pad, I want you to hear me out. This isn't me telling you that we're through. I'm not gonna prove you right by crushing whatever feeling you have left in you with a damn note. I'm mature enough to explain the problem - any problem - to your face. No matter how grim the consequence._

_But there was never a problem with you. Not once. Being in command means I do the things I do to keep morale. We'll need it like the air we breathe, when we hit the Reapers. If what I say hurts you - if ANYTHING I do makes you doubt us...Then I want you to keep reading. The entire thing, too, please. I need you to understand how I feel._

_To be perfectly honest, I'd been expecting a man, when I came to rescue you. The entire squad did. You can imagine the reaction we got, when you were lifted out of cryo...Then the reaction we got when you tore through four YMIR Mechs like ryncol through humans._

_Grunt had to be the happiest krogan alive. And I still remember Dark Star, too. And that was the biggest mistake of my life._

_We chased you all through that damn ship, Jack. Shot at by Suns, prisoners, and mechs that were still active. Even Kuril. And we killed them all. Just to rescue you. Granted, we had a reason for getting off that ship, just as much as you did, but we weren't leaving without you. __**I**__ wasn't leaving without you._

_And when we finally got to you..._

_You had me at 'cheerleader'._

_Of course, being in charge means not ending up like Brock - swooning over every doctor or policewoman (or in this case, prisoner) that he meets. That's an actual rule, it's in there, somewhere (Don't worry about who 'Brock' is). So I had to just...Be me. Shepard. The Shepard the Citadel displays me as, on the vids, everyday. The Shepard that became the first human spectre. The Shepard that chased Saren Arterius all across the galaxy. The Shepard that stopped him from making us all extinct._

_Shepard. The two years earlier Shepard._

_Which brings me to the movie you saw, with me. God knows how I goaded you into doing that. __**I**__ don't even know how I did it. But what you saw wasn't me. They didn't believe I'd catch on. To the audience, or to the council. The Shepard __**I**__ know __**DESPISES**__ the council. For making it hard to help. To do one thing without having to do another first. For making us seem like the enemy. And I don't mean just the turians. Every. Single. Council. Race. Back then, they HATED us. Only race I thought polite enough not to say it aloud was the elcor. Back then, I'd say to myself.._

_'How do I..How do WE - humanity - save a galaxy that doesn't even want us in it?'_

_I pegged them all out to be our enemies, at first. Every one of them, against us. But then, I'd think back to where it all started. Where Shepard began._

_Mindoir._

_I know I told you about this, before. So I'm going to apologize, in advance, for what I'm about to say._

_What I told you was the short story. Like the equivalent of you asking me about how I ended up being assigned to the Normandy in the first place, and me saying that I met Anderson, and he liked me. My reason for doing so was for the same reason as yours. 'Remembering' hurts. It hurts bad._

_My family was the head of the agricultural business, there. We were responsible for getting food into a small colony. Just because it was small, doesn't mean it wasn't hard, though. Compared to Earth, Mindoir was a foreign planet. There wasn't a whole lot we knew about it. Ignorance tends to do that, sometimes. I still remember being propped up on my dad's shoulders, watching my mother drive off to work. I still remember sharing a couch with my mother, after watching a late night movie. I remember the times where Dad would get the hose, and spray the both of us, out of fucking NOWHERE._

_There were a lot of things I remember. A lot of good things. I try to think about them more. I try to think about them first. But it doesn't work. It __**never**__ works. Because no matter how hard I try, no matter how hard I try to shut it out..The raid always finds its way back into my head._

_We didn't even know how to deal with that - we were all fucking FARMERS. There'd been only a few of us who ever actually carried a firearm. And the ones who did were shot down first. My dad tried to keep the both of us in the house, while he went out to fight back. Mom snuck out. So did I. We weren't going to sit back, and just do nothing. We couldn't. We've known these people our entire lives. To not help would be betrayal._

_Maybe we should have listened. Maybe things would have been different._

_But I don't know which is worse; never knowing your parents, or knowing them, and watching them die, right before your eyes._

_Both leave a strange feeling. Like a dark void. That void is evil. Horrific. Dangerous. It tends to suck in others, against their will. And it does hurtful things, to the people they ensnare. It eventually ends with them dying. Or worse. And the one who's stuck with it - the one stuck with the void? Everytime, __**HE's**__ responsible for it. And knowing's going to eat away at him, until he becomes a shadow of his former self. A living husk._

_I didn't understand that until Akuze. That was when the void struck._

_What are the odds that a recon team..._

_After the attack, on Mindoir, I felt like I owed the Alliance my life. They saved me. And they were doing this, everywhere. Saving people. I wanted to help, with every fiber in my being. Pain like that's not worth sharing. Pain like that shouldn't even exist. If one person could make a difference..Then why can't that person be me, right?_

_I flew into Akuze with 50 men. And I can't remember their names. I knew those men like the back of my goddamn hand, and I can't fucking remember their names. I can't remember their face. Their families. I didn't even go to their funeral, after the attack. Couldn't bring myself to do that, to them. I survived. Again. And it's MY fault. If I'd been alert..._

_Heh..I'm starting to sound like Ash, now._

_But I'm right, no? I could have done __**something**__. Pretty much could have saved at least 7 of those men. Tops. I believe I could. What kills me was knowing that I didn't try._

_'I was the only one focused on survival.'_

_That's what I told Jacob, and Miranda._

_And goddamn if I wasn't right._

_I did some serious soul searching, after Akuze. Led me to the dark void theory. Knowing that I have it's bad enough, but knowing that it affects OTHERS? I wasn't going to do that, to them. Not to anyone. So I started working harder; completed my training, in the Alliance, and got assigned to the first Normandy. And I did it on my own. To do that, I had to limit interaction. I had to do what was mandatory, and nothing more. I go on a mission to rescue kids from slavers? Nothing in that objective says to be chatty with your comrades. Nothing says to show mercy to batarians. Do the job, go home. That was it, for me._

_If I said one word to anyone…If I'd done anything to gain the friendship of another soldier..I was setting him up for failure. At least, that's what I thought._

_Then came Eden Prime. And everything that came after it._

_I'm going to be honest, with you, Jack. Me and Ashley were together, before you. The woman you saw at Horizon. The one with the Alliance. If not the entire crew, it was __**her**__ that made come around. Or her, mostly. Liara, Tali, Garrus, Wrex, and Kaidan. They all helped. They made me see that the void wasn't immune to harm. I could fight it. Close it out, shut it, forever. Only thing stopping me was __**me**__._

_So I fought it, just as I was fighting the reapers. Just as I was fighting Saren. Somewhere during it all, I started seeing that the views of one alien didn't necessarily span across their entire race. And it's not hatred - don't get me wrong, I didn't hate them. I just didn't like them singling us out as the bad guys. The council's pets, in Pallin's words._

_I tried telling Ash this. She was dead set on xenophobia, and with good reason. I was shocked, when she came around, though; guess she just needed a different way of viewing the council, so that you could hate them, but accept them at the same time. Just as I did. Things were going well. With the squad. With me and Ash. But I let my guard down. And the void struck, again._

_I cost Kaidan his life, that day. On Virmire. By __**listening**__ to him. Yes. __**Listening**__. I should have hauled ass, and pulled him out of that lab. But I didn't. I ran. I ran to the damn ship, and left him to die. By the time I realized what I'd done? BOOM._

_I thought I'd lost the battle. And after that, I thought I'd lose the war. Against myself. Against the void. Against the council. Against the Reapers. I thought I was going to lose everything. And I shut Ash out, because of it. Turned her own words against her, thinking I was doing her a favor. And I didn't look back._

_The solitary Shepard in me had come back, again. 'Do the job, and go home', I said._

_**'Do the job, and go home.'**_

_Even as Sovereign was destroyed._

_**'Do the job, and go home.'**_

_Even as we searched for geth resistance._

_**'Do the job, and go home.'**_

_And when the Collectors killed me? When I found myself drowning in the vacuum of space? I said to myself.._

_**'I finished the job. Now, I can go home.'**_

_But of course, Cerberus didn't think it that way._

_So here I am, trying to finish the job with human extremists. And half the people these extremists want me to pick up are aliens. How well was this gonna go, right?_

_I was about ready to go about the job as I did in my last life...And then you came along._

_As I said, about...infinity words ago, you had me at 'cheerleader'. Somebody besides the people I've worked with hates Cerberus? Hell, that was good enough for me. But I couldn't let my guard down. Same as you. What started off as a few conversations ended up turning into a gradual interest in you, Jack. I just felt drawn to you. And I didn't know why. It hit home, at Teltin. Seeing what they did, in person? Made me think. Made me think about Mindoir. It made me think about the pain I suffered there, and that, in turn, made me think about the pain that molded me into what I am, at Akuze._

_I..I felt like I __**knew**__ you, personally. Even if I'd just met you, a few nights ago. And feeling like I knew you...Somehow made me forget about it all. About Mindoir AND Akuze. About losing Kaidan. About dying. About everything._

_When I'm with you...It's just me and you. And no one else. My attention is yours, just as yours is mine._

_**THAT**__ is why I kept egging you on._

_**THAT**__ is why I kept coming back._

_**THAT**__, Jack, is why I do not like you._

_No...'like' doesn't even begin to describe it._

_I don't like you, Jack. I __**love**__ you._

_And whether or not you feel the same way? I don't even care. If you don't want to admit it, that's fine._

_If you've already thrown this datapad away, though, then we've got a problem. I did not pour every bit of myself into this damn thing for you to toss it aside. Work with me, girl._

_But..Joking aside.._

_I don't know if I'll win this fight with the void. But when I'm around you, I forget it's a fight. It's not supposed to be fun. But it's starting to be._

_So..In order to keep this feeling...In order to keep you around..I'm going to make you a promise._

_I promise to never abandon you._

_I promise to never hurt you._

_I promise to never do anything that would have you leave me. I know, I'm soft. But I can't risk losing the one thing that's keeping me going. Besides not wanting humanity wiped out._

_But most of all...I'm not going to make the same mistake Murtock made. __**Ever**__. I screwed up, the first time. Yes. But I didn't know what I was losing. And it took spending two years dead for me to realize that._

_So Jack? I promise to NEVER..__**EVER**__...Die on you. Whatever knocks me down - be it mercenaries, life, politics, Reapers, or even you - I'll keep getting back up._

_Because I love you...And..I can't find anything else to say; I was never good at writing notes._

_Just..Know that I care._

_I. Care._

_No one else has to. I don't care about them._

_Because no one else matters._

_-Shepard_

_P.S.: The next time you find some knowledge in those files? Let me know. We'll bomb some other shit._

* * *

Shepard chuckles, slightly. His work was done. Before any other thought was taken, a voice was heard.

"Commander? We're ten minutes from Illium." His pilot would call.

Shepard's legs became uncrossed, moving to the right, to position itself upon the heavy bulk that kept him grounded. He'd move up the small flight of stairs, absently placing the datapad onto the desk, on his left, before leaving the cabin. The pad hits the desk, with a loud thud, and a small flatlining sound could be heard from the screen.

***Data saved. Sending to ...Citizen ID Not Found.***


	7. Savior Of The Savior

2:10, A.M.

* * *

Another night spent in Shepard's cabin. One of many. As usual, the room was silent, save for the two of them. Shepard and Jack.

It's been two days since Shepard had sent her that letter. The letter Shepard put his heart into. The letter he'd been dying to send to her. To anyone. Most of the people in the galaxy saw Shepard as a hero. Someone who name alone was legendary. 'A god, back from the dead' as Ashley put it. And he was proud of it. His goal to save others from the pain he'd endured was successful, but far from complete.

Yet, through all of his accomplishments, none had given him the one thing he wanted the most. Of everything he had in his power, there is only one thing he could not manage to do, on his own. And that was to cure the uncurable. To help the helpless.

_To save himself._

The cabin was a mess. Shepard's N7 helmet was knocked onto the bulk, laying against the prothean relic that once sat atop the small table. A wineglass, formerly position on said table, had somehow found its way next to the small aquarium in pieces. Chairs were turned over, holos were damaged. The replica of the SR-1 laid broken in half, at the desk securing Shepard's private terminal.

'Zorah was going to be pissed.

The bed itself was diagonally positioned; its sheets barely covering their exposed flesh. Jack's head had laid center of Shepard's chest, his heartbeat soothing. She'd stopped carrying her gun, with her, around the _Normandy_. She didn't need it. Not here. She shifted her position onto Shepard's; her left arm firmly wrapped around his ribcage. She smiled a faint smile. Then, a small pen had rolled off of Shepard's desk, striking the floor with unbalanced force. Though almost quiet, that alone jolted Jack awake, her right arm crackling with dark energy, as she looked for the culprit. Upon seeing it, she sighed, and dropped her defenses. Right palm would come to be placed squarely against her forehead; her fingertips brushing past small strands of hair.

Old habits die hard.

She'd look back to Shepard. He'd hardly even responded to her moving that quickly. "_He's a heavy fucking sleeper, when he wants to be_." Jack thought. A small, yet overwhelming feeling had come over her, when she looked at him. Caused her heart to skip a beat. She'd watch Shepard, as he slightly shifted to the right, where she had once been. She'd smirk, her right hand rested upon his shoulder. He flinched at the touch.

"Shepard?" Jack had called, believing he'd been awake. His brows furrowed, and his teeth clenched together. His heartbeat sped up a bit. "Don't go." Shepard said. "They'll kill you, if you go – Don't…" Shepard's head turned swiftly to the side, grunting as he did so. Jack, who had not even known the letter he had sent to her existed, was oblivious to what had been transpiring. Her grip on his shoulder tightened, as she attempted to shake him awake. "Shepard." Jack would call, again.

"Mom…Dad..Say something...S-say something! Please..Don't..."

She'd understood, then. All that talk that the man was unemotional. They've never seen him. Not truly. And not like this. Jack had shaken him again. "Shepard, c'mon. You gotta wake up."

"…Godamn...Wh..Why does this keep happening, I….I saw a thresher pull you under!"

At that point, Jack had not cared about being quiet. He was going to hurt himself, doing this.

"SHEPARD!" Jack shouted. And when she did, Shepard'd sprung forward. He'd been breathing heavily. His eyes had been wide open. His heartbeat had intensified, and he had broken into a cold sweat. His hands had gone up to his head, brushing back his hair, as he tried to collect himself. But he couldn't. He could only bottle those feelings away for the next nightmare. He knew this. He knew this, and it had been killing him. Just like he said. His eyes closed shut, and tears began to stream down his face.

"Goddamn it." Shepard had said, trying his best to hold back the tears. "Hey..Come here." Jack said, as her arms had wrapped around Shepard's back, and pulled him towards her. "It's gonna be cool, Shepard. You're gonna be alright." Shepard's head had laid against her chest, and his arms had gone around her.

This was the first time she had ever seen Shepard cry. The sight was the same as the feeling – overwhelming – but understandable. No one was without scars. And this was the first time Shepard'd revealed them to her, in this way. Truthfully. All this time he'd been saving others; who knew he'd need it just as much as them? Certainly not them. And certainly not her.

At least, now until now.

"You're gonna be alright." Jack would repeat, more softly than the last. Because she cared. She didn't know if it would help, but she was damn sure going to try.

Because she cared.

"I'm here, Shepard…I'm here…"


	8. Contemplation

_ _11:56, A.M._ _

* * *

Morning time.

At least, that's what the clock said.

The cabin looked at lot less damaged, as of now. The glass, broken apart and positioned near the fish tank, was absent. The holos were repaired. The halved SR-1 replica had been seamlessly pieced back together, and put back in its rightful place, along with the rest of the ship models that sat against the transparent glass. The lamppost, earlier fallen to the bulk, had been placed back onto the end table upon which it always sat. Chairs were repositioned, and the bed was made up, though only on one side.

Jack had still been sleeping.

Shepard's N7 Helmet was placed were it had once been; the same as the prothean orb. The documents that spread at the door leading to the room were neatly organized, and sat next to his private terminal. And the desk where it all sat was where Shepard had been, back laid against the cushion of the chair provided. His eyes had been upon the terminal, as a message routed there had caught his utmost attention.

* * *

_Dear Shepard,_

_A friend of yours in the Alliance told me how to get in touch with you. You may not remember me. I wasn't there long enough for you to have memories of me, good or bad. But I used to attend the school you went to, on Mindoir. Before I moved, of course. What happened there was horrible, but at least someone survived._

_You probably already know that today marks the 14th anniversary of the Mindoir raid. What you probably don't know is that they are holding a three-day long celebration. A tribute to having survived, despite the atrocity commited, long ago. Me and the others were talking, and it would be a honor to have you as a guest, here._

_If you can make the time, you know where to go. We're beginning the celebration at a plaza not far from where you used to live. It's also where they set up a likeness of you. It's VERY large; you can't miss it._

_If we do not see you there, then know that, even without your presence, we will continue to survive. We will follow your example, and make this colony a better place._

_Sincerely,_

_Lori Smith_  
_Governor of Mindoir_

* * *

Shepard was unsure of how to respond. The timing was bad. After what just happened, a few hours ago, James didn't think he'd be able to take anymore. He probably wouldn't have..But she had been there for him. She'd been there for him as he was for her. But as much as he'd like to think that comfort from Jack would help him, it wouldn't. He knew it'd keep coming back. The dreams. The deaths. The scars from then to now. They'd all come back. Going to Mindoir would only make it worse.

But…It's been 14 years since he last visited his home. Never got the chance, with joining the Alliance, surviving Akuze, fighting the Eden Prime war. All up to dealing with the Reapers. All that time and he had never gotten the chance to come home. He'd never gotten the chance to remember the good things, from before. He'd never gotten the chance to say goodbye.

Shepard closed his eyes, and had taken a deep breath. His left hand had come to slide across the strands of jet black hair, brushing it back as the palm reached his forehead.

"Mornin'."

When he opened his eyes, he had seen his beloved, Jack, in a reflection of the hologram. How she managed to get that far without him noticing her was questionable; the only two people he'd known that could do that was Krios and Goto. Left hand removed, he'd slightly nod his head, before tilting it back, to get a good look at her. "Morning." He replied.  
"Reading somethin'?"

"…It's from Mindoir."

Jack's eyes narrowed; her brows furrowed, as she attempted to get a good look at the message. "The hell do they want?" She said, though without an irritated or annoyed tone, despite what her question had implied. Shepard's eyes had closed again; saying what he had just read appeared to be even harder. At least, at this moment. "…They want me to visit."

"So why don'tcha?"

"You saw me, Jack. You saw the nightmare I was having - I don't think I'm ready for that."

Jack had turned her gaze to James.

"Think I was ready to go to Pragia, Shepard?"

"Honestly? No. I didn't."

"But I did, anyway. 'Cause I needed to knock that shit out of the way."

"Jack, you went to Pragia to blow up the facility you were raised in. They're asking me to spend three days in the colony my parents DIED in."

"Ain't like you're gonna be alone. 'Cause I wasn't." Jack had moved, getting herself settled onto Shepard's lap. "Way I see it; it'd be like returning the favor. You helped me out with my past. Only fair I help you with yours." Shepard had sighed. He wanted to believe that. That she could help him, in the same manner that he did. Nevertheless, he did not think she could. He did not think anyone could. The only person capable needed his help, too. Moreover, if she had gotten the message, chances are she would be responding to it in the same way that Shepard was, right now. Unsure of whether or not he should accept the invitation, or ignore it, altogether.

"Hey." Jack's voice cut through his pondering. "If you don't do this, it's gonna fuck you up, 'til you end up like Aresh. And I'm DAMN sure not carrying that shit with me. You stopped me from getting stuck like that; now it's suddenly ok for YOU to do it? Fuck that." Shepard had turned his gaze away from her, when she said that. And when he did, Jack's hand would move to his jaw, gripping onto it, to turn his face back towards her. "Shepard…Just. Fucking. Go. Alright? I've never even done shit for you, before - you can't just not let me. Let me try."

"Fine." Shepard relented, to which Jack had released her grip. A small smile crept upon her face, but was quickly replaced with a scoff. "Took you long enough. Says the celebration's today, right? Might as well get ready to leave." Jack had hopped off Shepard's lap, and moved to the showers. But before she could actually enter, Shepard had grabbed onto her wrist, and pulled her back onto his lap.

"No, we don't. It won't kill us if we're late. Besides, I was going to head back to bed, anyway. Make sure you're warm."

At that, Jack quirked a brow.

"What's with all this soft shit, Shepard?"

"Soft? Sleeping with you's soft, now?" Shepard had said, chuckling a bit. "You didn't _sleep _with me." Jack snapped, in an annoyed tone, to which Shepard shrugged. "So what? Just being here with you is worth it." Shepard had said, letting his fingers trail down the side of Jack's neck. Shepard had his eyes on hers, for a while now. And Jack noticed this, thus unintentionally ridding herself of the good feeling that came with Shepard's caressing.

"What?" Jack asked.

"You know those cheap compliments the women on the vids get, everyday?"

"Heard them, yeah. Why?"

"You're about to get one. Anyone ever tell you 'rock the hell out of those eyes you have'?"

"Really, Shepard?"

"Yes, really. They're very –"

"Fucked up?"

"If by 'fucked up', you mean the most captivating eyes in all of existence…"

"Screw you, Shepard." Jack had said, between small laughs

"Oh, I'm just getting started, Jack." Shepard had said, with a grin on his face. "Bet no one's ever told you that. Or this." Before he continued, Shepard's lips had met hers, parting after every few seconds, and then continuing after every comment. "Every time I kiss you, I get an urge to do it again. And again. And again.

"Tch. You're a fucking junkie, fishin' for a fix, huh?" Jack had said. And as she did, Shepard's kisses began to trail down the opposite side of her neck. "Bet your ass I am." Shepard said, as he done so. The kisses had moved from her neck to her collarbone.

"Slow down, Shepard; I'll still be here, when you wake up." Jack had said. But Shepard had not responded.

"Shepard." Jack had called, in one last attempt to get his attention. When she called, however, Shepard's lips met hers once more.

"Jack." Shepard had responded, once parting from her. She had been at a loss for words. Whatever she was going to say, she had forgotten a very long time ago. After a long gaze into Shepard's eyes, Jack had settled on to two words that would summarize this moment.

"Fuck you."

And with that, Jack had pulled him into a kiss of her own.

It was a good way to start the morning.


	9. En Route

_ 12:54, A.M. _

-

* * *

The Normandy was a fine ship. As it was in the past, so will it be, in the present.

The first was a beauty, a one-of-a-kind masterpiece. A symbol of friendship, and unity, between the turians and humans. With its state of the art stealth system, impressive maneuverability, and its enormous drive core, the frigate achieved many accomplishments; it's most notable being the ship that allowed its captain, Commander James Shepard, to stop the rogue Special Tactics and Reconnaissance agent Saren Aterius from unleashing the Reapers upon the galaxy. A threat that seems to have 'faded into dark space', so to speak.

Even with the original's destruction, the Normandy continued to impress. Its successor had gone on to complete many tasks most starships would have failed, attempting to do, culminating with the complete destruction of the Collectors, once again saving the galaxy – and more importantly, humanity – from the Reapers.  
But with all of what the second had done, and could do, there was one thing it could not.

And that was land on a planet.

Even if the Normandy's mass could be supported, the crew was still at work. There had been no real time for breaks. Which made James' decision to revisit his roots for the first time, since the raid, all the more unprofessional, in a certain former human extremist operative's mind. But in the end, James was the captain of the ship. And as captain, his word was final. Everyone else has had something done for them; it was time for Shepard to go about doing something for himself.

They were less than 5 minutes away from their destination. The UT-47 Kodiak Drop Shuttle had been the mode of transportation. They didn't have worry about the level of privacy as, aside from both the pilots controlling the shuttle, they were the only ones aboard. James had been sitting opposite of the pilot's side; his belongings, enclosed in small storage cases, were stacked to the left of his position. Seven, in all. To his right, were 3 storage cases, the top filled to the brim with weapons, which seemed unnecessary, considering that they'd not been treating this as mission. At least, Shepard wasn't.

On his lap, and against his chest, laid Jack. She'd been sleeping; her arms locked tightly under his. Like an adolescent, not wanting to part from an object, for fear of what she'd have to do. Where she'd have to go.  
He believed it served as a reminder. So long as she felt the fabric of the dark grey undershirt, pressing into her muscles, the coolness of the orange vest that formed against the side of her face, and the warmness of another's hand, firmly grasping onto her hips, that what she was experiencing was not an mirage. A hallucination. If it were, chances are she'd probably never want to wake up. To come to her senses. But it was not a dream. This had been real. Jack must have had the same thoughts as him – or at least, knew that he was looking down at her – because when he'd done so, she'd smile a small smile. Similar to the one she had given, before the Omega-4 Relay was approached. Her grip tightened, and she shifted against him. The fuzz that served as her hair brushed under his chin.

Doing so had given James another sight to behold. Through all of the ink applied to her body, not once did he notice the scars. The one atop her head, and the other splitting her lip, sure. Even the ones that decorated her neck had been seen before. But what he had not seen had been the scars below it. The scars etched unto her body. James' free hand would lift from his side – which was enough to wake her – and had begun tracing the scar on her right arm.

"The fuck you doing, Shepard?" Jack had asked, her voice heavy with sleep. She'd not bothered to open her eyes. Surprised even her.

"Pragia?" James replied, continuing on with his tracing. His eyes had been focused on the task.

"Yep." Jack had slightly nodded her head, unable to bring herself to move, all that much. Too tired. Besides, it'd be a while, before she believed she want to remove herself from him. "S'like I said; torture. Makes me glad…" Jack had yawned, between words. "That that place's a fucking crater." She had adjusted her head against his chest, now able to clearly hear his heartbeat. "We're here for you, though. So don't change the subject."

Though he was fully aware that there was no conversation held with a subject regarding him ever since she woke, James decided to ask the question, anyway. "What subject?" He smugly asked. "Don't recall hearing anything about me."

At that, Jack's hands unlocked themselves, and a right fist was sent straight into his ribs. The blow was fast, but light. James gave a small laugh, and had kissed the base of her head.

"You got any scars?" Jack had asked, as his head returned to its position, against hers.

"Everyone's got sca-"

"Ones you can see, Shepard."

James had shrugged. "Aside from the ones you gave me, that time, on the Citadel? And the one from being shot – twice, if I might add…"

It was intended to be a joke. But it wasn't, to Jack. Her right fist slammed into Shepard's ribs again, this time harder than the last. It was enough to tell James that he crossed a line. Which made Jack's next action unnecessary.

"Don't fucking talk to me, like that. I said I was sorry." Jack had said, angrily. But James was an asshole. An asshole born of experience. An asshole born of choice. And an asshole born of necessity. That necessity did not apply here.

"I'd been unconscious before I even hit the ground…" James had said, without a laugh. And without a smile. "So you'll have to forgive me if I'm unable to believe that actually happened."

Jack's eyes had gone wide open. Her head was lifted away from his chest, and she'd stare daggers into his eyes.

"_**What the FUCK, Shepard!"**_ Jack had shouted. "_What's your fucking problem!"_

And it was then that James had smiled. "You realize I'm doing this because you keep walking into it, right?" He said, laughing a bit. "I know you don't like it. And I know you don't want me to try and place the blame on you. What happened..Happened."

"_Then why the hell would you say that to me?"_ Jack had said, pissed off at the fact that James found this funny.

"Only way to get you to open your eyes." James had stated, with a huge grin plastered across his face. That caught Jack by surprise, evident when she attempted to speak, but nothing came out. She'd been at a loss for words, unable to understand what James had been getting at...Until she remembered what he'd said, aboard the Normandy. When she did, she had shook her head, then placed it back against James' chest, her arms coming back to grip his torso.

"Fucking asshole." She'd finally say, to which James had chuckled.

"Don't I get to see my priiize?" He had asked, knowingly ripping a, understandably cheap, line from one of his comrades.

"Fuck you." Jack retorted.

"After all that trouble?"

"Coulda just asked." Jack was still visibly pissed off, at him. I'm wearing that fucking visor too. Teach you to talk down on me."

"Aww...You're a very hard person to like, Jack." James had replied. Though, in all honesty, it was actually quite easy. Had made sure not to include that, in his tone, however.

"Really?" Jack replied, her voice teeming with sarcasm.

"Hadn't noticed. You got any other noticeables that I'm too stupid to see?"

The shuttle had arrived on Mindoir.


	10. Home Again

_**_ 1:12, P.M. _**_

* * *

"Was it worth it?"

It was a question James found himself repeating, every day of his life. But this time…Was different. Different, as in now, he had another answer.

Fourteen years ago.

Batarian slavers attacked Mindoir. Anything within their sights was destroyed to a level beyond recognition. The ones who could fight had done so. And each was felled, one by one. In the end, he was the only one left. The last native alive to tell the tale. As the Alliance patrol escorted him to safety, James had asked himself,

"Was it worth it?"

Was it worth surviving? Initially, he didn't think so. Part of him wished he were killed, along with his parents. That he died, along with the rest of his unit, on Akuze. That it was him who stayed on Virmire, rather than Kaidan. That Cerberus had never interfered with his death, by the Collectors. It'd be easier then; no more inescapable memories, no more..Decades of guilt. No longer would he have to carry the burden of being humanity's…No..The galaxy's savior. Had he'd died, someone would have come along to take his place. If not…Well then, it wasn't his problem, now was it? If he had died, it never would have been, to begin with. Death makes things..Simple.  
He should know. He was there.

And while he was, he found it peaceful. After fourteen years, he was finally able to see his parents, again. Everyone he knew and loved. Everything he thought he lost. To be lost in the memories he held dear, rather than the ones he resented, was…Easy. There'd been no feelings of guilt. No wondering about whether he could have done things another way. The right way. Things were simple. Everyone was happy. Everyone was…Content.

And then he'd wake to gunfire.

He couldn't complain; two years of being content was the best 'shore leave' he'd ever gotten. But just the same, he rather have everyone fail him, before he had failed them all. Getting killed made them cautious. Returning the favor had them rejoice. But he didn't redeem himself. Not yet. Redemption would come when the Reapers were finished.

But until then, he settled for a fight of near equality.

The fight with the void.

Mindoir was where it began.

And here is where it will end.

Once the shuttle touched down, James and Jack had set up, stacking their belongings on top of each other, to minimize the time it took to carry it, at the cost of taking less strength to carry it. While doing so, a car had parked near the landing pad. And from it exited two men, and the governor of Mindoir, Lori Smith. Jack was the first to notice, placing the visor she'd been given by James onto her eyes, when she did. He frowned when he saw it. "Really?" James had said, weakly smiling out of realization. Jack had shot him a quizzical look. "C'mon. Jack, I thought you were kidding."

"Yeah..Fuck that." Jack replied, in a playful tone. "You did a bad thing, Shepard. Gotta pay for it."

"James Shepard?" Lori would call, to which James had looked towards her, nodding to confirm his identify. Accepting, Lori would signal the bodyguards to move to the storage cases, to help Mindoir's renowned guest settle in for the few days that he was going to be here. Lori had approached James after the signal, extending her arm forward, once she was within said limb's reach.

"Lori Smith. It's an honor to have you here."

"It's an honor to be here." James would reply. Once he had done so, Jack had approached the two of them, intentionally shoving James' shoulder forward, while clearing her throat.

"Name's Jack." Jack had said.

"She's with me." James had followed up, placing his arm around her shoulder. "..It's not going be a problem, is it?"

The small event took the governor by surprise. Even more so because of Jack's appearance and the fact that she, along with the rest of the colony, thought that James was coming to Mindoir alone. Alas, she managed to hide it behind professionalism, and had nodded, upon confirmation.

"Nice to meet you, Ms. Jack." Lori would begin, to which Jack had scoffed. "Y'know, you might as well drop the 'miss' shit, 'cause I ain't being polite." Jack had turned her head elsewhere, adjusting the visor, to get a clearer look at the colony. "So where the hell are we staying?" Once that was heard, an incontrollable smile had come across Lori's face. "About that..Shepard, there's something special, waiting for you, in the colony." Lori would move to the passenger's side of the car. "I'll have my men drive us to it. Harris! Willem! Let's hurry it up!" Lori would say, as she re-entered the car. As the bodyguards moved the cases to the vehicle, the Kodiak shuttle had took off, on a course back to the Normandy, and James had entered the backseat, with Jack in tow.

* * *

**__ 1:30, P.M. __**

* * *

"…And there's the plaza." Lori had been giving James a small tour of the new thing that was built, after his departure, and the colony's recovery. A melody had been playing on the speakers of the car, though almost so silently, that it wasn't acknowledged, at all. "You touched down just after we finished the opener; one of my people caught your shuttle." Lori had finished, to which James had nodded.

"Alright." He'd reply. He'd then point to a large, grey statue, standing in the middle of the plaza, performing a salute to the skies above. "I take it that's the likeness you were talking about?"

"Ah, yes. At the time we built it, we were in talks about..Well, your armor."

"What for?"

"Well….. In the numerous videos we've seen you in…Well, you seemed to change suits constantly."

"Ah..…Yeah, capability issues. I wouldn't wor—"

"What the _**FUCK**_ are we listening to?" Jack had said, visibly annoyed. "Seriously, how the hell can you sit here and NOT notice this shit – **it's repetitive as fuck!"**

Again, Jack speaking caught Lori off caught, but she managed to collect herself quickly enough for it to not be evident. "My apologies." Lori had said, nodding. "Willem. Turn off the music." The bodyguard driving the car had done as she asked. And, after doing so, had spoken back.

"We're coming up to the building, now."

Hearing this, James had looked out of the window. As the car pulled to a stop, his eyes had come upon something he'd thought he would never see again. Something he thought he'd lost, forever.

His home.

Door hissed, lifting up from the vehicle, allowing the others to exit from it. The first was James, eager to see if what he had been seeing wasn't just some mirage, of some sort. He damn near slapped himself – or pinched. He didn't know which to do, causing him to simply stand there, in front of the 2 story building.

It looked like an average 20th century household. Its walls were made of amber colored bricks, its roof made of slate. There were few windows; it's most notable being a large, horizontal window that had panned the front wall of the second floor, revealing a large bedroom, its contents nearly the same as it was when James had last saw it.

"We wanted to do this for you." Lori explained. "It was the least we could do."

James had no words for her. There were none that could describe this moment. A small smile crept upon his face had Lori had reached for the keys.

"Here." She'd say, handing the keys over to him, to which he readily accepted. "We'll get out of your hair." Lori had signaled the bodyguards to start the car, and had turned to leave.

"Your belongings were passed, before we got here. They should be in the living room." Were Lori's final words, before entering the car. As it pulled out, Jack had approached James, gazing upon the household, just as he was. However, its value to James was unknown to her, and thus, she slightly shook her head, as she turned towards him.

"The hell's keeping you?" She'd say, raising a brow.

He could have answered that, in any number of ways. The way he felt like answering, though, wouldn't have been appropriate. He was damn near close to getting shockwaved, on the ride to Mindoir; he wasn't about to spoil this moment – and have his home and relationship destroyed, in the process – by slapping her with a smart-ass remark. James had shaken his head, pulling himself away from those now vivid memories of the past, and gripped onto the keys set across his palm.

"Nothing." James replied.

"It's nothing. Let's go set up."


	11. New Game

**__ 1:37, P.M. __**

_

* * *

_

_**"You have GOT to be KIDDING ME!"**_

Came Shepard's voice, from above the floor in which Jack had resided. She'd had been tending to the laces on her boots, her back falling against the cushions of the couch positioned in the center of the room. Brown hues would turn to the stairs, wondering what the hell elicited that yell from him. And for five seconds, that topic occupied her mind. Then, she looked back to the television set in front of her, pretty sure that, whatever it was, it was another form of nostalgia for James.

Soon enough, his boots came booming down the steps. He had holding a black, box-like device in his hand, complete with tangled cords, and controllers.

"Something else catch your fucking eye?" Jack had said, without interest; her eyes glued to the news report Emily Wong as doing about the late prison ship, the Purgatory.

"Turn that shit off; you gotta see this." James had said, walking into the living room, and in front of Jack's view. Once there, he crouched, setting the box-device onto the coffee table, and connecting the cords into their assigned slots. Jack's eyes trailed down to the box; it's appearance generating a quizzical look from the tattooed biotic.

"What the hell is that?" Jack asked, leaning a bit to get a closer look.

"It's called an Xbox." James explained. "We used to have these things by the masses, in the 20th century. 'Least, that's what they told me."

"Who told you?"

"Parents. They were out shopping off world, one day, and figured they'd get it, since they were buying other things like it. 'Artifacts of the past' they called it."

"You know you ain't gonna be able to hook that shit up to a holo."

"Right."

James had pushed off of the ground, moving into the area that served as the dining room. Within the next moment, James had come back, carrying a three foot long crate. He'd sit it directly under the hologram that served as the television, and then went back into the dining room. Jack simply watched him go back and forth; a what-in-the-blue-hell-is-Shepard-doing look plastered on her face.

In the next instant, James had come back with another box-like device. Though this one's front was outfitted with a glass plate, and had antennas sticking from the top. He'd sit this device on top of the crates, then moved to mingle with the cords, again.

"….What the fuck is an Xbox, again?" Jack had said, lightly shaking her head.

"Gaming system."

"Why not use your damn omni-tool?"

"Not good at handling portables."

"What?"

"Nevermind; it's hooked up." James had said, finished with placing the cords in their respective spots. He then turned to head back up the stairs. "Be right back!" He'd say, quickly, before a set of booms signaled his position upwards. The second set, after a moment, brought him back down. James had now held a green case in his hand, and a disc, in another. He moved to the Xbox, and pressed onto a button, which had glowed green, after a few seconds. He'd then press another button, causing the device to eject a grey, bottomless tray. He'd set the disk in the hollowing that made the shape of it, and then pressed the same button he'd pressed, before, causing the tray to retreat back into the Xbox.

James had then gone to hit the buttons fitted onto the bottom of the other, larger box. When he was finished, he moved over to the coffee table, picking up one of the controller he had been carrying, and handed it to Jack. In her confusion, she accepted it. James had then grabbed onto another controller, and moved to a seat beside her.

"You and I.." James began, dropping down onto the cushion, exhaling as he had done so. "Are going to play some Tekken 6."

"….Seriously?" Jack had said, turning her head to him. "You want to spend the day playing video games?"

"Not the entire day; we've still have to be ready for when Lori calls us. Besides, it's boring, when it's just me."

She could have just broken the damn controller…But she did say that she was trying to help. Jack shrugged, gripping onto the controller, and throwing her feet on top of the table, crossing them as she spoke, again.

"One match. And then we're done."

"Fine by me."

_**GET READY FOR THE NEXT BATTLE!**_

* * *

_**_ 2:10, P.M. _**_

* * *

"You're a goddamn cheat, Shepard!"

"How did I cheat? You're the one that ran into it."

"No I fucking didn't!"

"I could easily save this match, so you can see the replay."

"Save it, then. So I'll have fuckin' evidence. Spammin' the shit out of those kicks.."

"It's Tae Kwon Do."

"So what?"

"Jack…It's Tae Kwon Do. Kicking happens, in Tae Kwon Do."

The score was 17-16. James had been leading.

"Alright, it's saved." James had said, putting down the controller. And rising from his seat. "I'm gonna go ahead an—"

"Fuck that. Going for tie."

James, just now realizing that they have been playing for almost forty matches, began to laugh, a bit. "You said we were only playing one game."

"I also said to shut the fuck up. Sit down, and play."

James couldn't wipe that smile off of his face for a damned thing. Alas, he sat down, gripped his controller, and hit 'Character Select' on the screen. "As you wish" He'd say, as the game brought them back to the character selection screen.

"I'm picking Gordo." Jack would say, to which James had rewarded her with a frown.

"You pick him; you're not getting your tie." James retorted, moving the controls to select a character named Lars Alexandersson. "How about we make a bet?" He'd add, looking towards Jack, awaiting her approval. Jack had picked a large robot of the same name. "Sure. I win? Your creds are mine." James' brows would furrow; he didn't quite get the entire thing.

"Like, for the day?" He'd ask.

"Like forever." Jack would answer.

"…You know, somehow, I feel stupid, for calling a bet now." James had said, while going through the stages available for them.

"Shouldn't have done it. And if you win?"

"I noticed you're still wearing that visor."

"…Under normal circumstances? I'd probably feel like an asshole, right now." Jack had said, allowing a grin to form across her face. "But…Ya had it coming, you fucker."

"Sure you don't want to change your conditions?"

"Screw that. Had my eye on that gun shop, down the road from here, anyway. Might as well check it out, after this."

"Assuming you win. I'm not leading from luck."

"We'll see, dickhead."

_**GET READY FOR THE NEXT BATTLE!**_

Both James and Jack grew quiet, as the match began. First round. Lars had sent both his arms forward as Jack-6 attempted to attack, hitting him with an electrical strike, which sent him slumping to the floor. But, before the robot was able to completely fall, Lars had stuck his foot out, kicking the half-downed robot, causing it to bounce from the floor. Lars' hands then struck forward, hitting Jack-6 twice, and sending him flying across the screen behind Lars. The Swedish native had then performed a somersault, attempting to strike Jack as it lay prone. However, the robot moved to the side, at the last minute, causing Lars to miss. When it got up, it sent a boot straight into Lars' face, knocking him onto the floor. It had launched Lars into the air, hitting him with a combo, as he fell back down. Lars began to glow red. When he had gotten back up, he had struck Jack with a combo of his own, ending with a reverse somersault kick that sent the robot spiraling into the wall behind him.

_**K.O.**_

"See what I mean? Goddamn cheat!" Jack had said, shoving her elbow into James' ribs. Though he felt the blow and the pain that came with it, he ended up laughing it off. "Don't get mad because I'm winning."

Round two was extremely one sided. As Lars began to attack, Jack had hit him with a counter move, and dominated him, ever since.

_**K.O.**_

"Um...Who's winning, again?" Jack had said, smirking.

"You got lucky." James had quickly added in, his eyes never leaving the screen.

"Yeah? Alright, bitch."

Round three. Lars had kicked the final round off with a 5-hit combo that sent Jack across the screen, once more. Lars attempted to follow up, and was tripped, when he got too close. Jack had then repeatedly kicked Lars' head in, until he'd gotten out of range. When Lars had gotten up, he was met with a charged fist to the jaw, which sent him back onto the floor. The second time it was attempted, however, Lars had countered it with somersault kick, which stunned the robot long enough for a 4-hit combo that put it on its last bit of health. When Jack had gotten up, Lars had made a beeline towards it, attempting to take out the last bit of health

But as that happened, Lori had entered through the front door. "Shepard?"

Hearing the door and his name caused James to look to the culprit. And because of which, his character had stopped in place, giving Jack the moment she needed to throw his character across the room, taking out any remaining health he had left.

_**K.O.**_

"Wha-?"

"Damn, Shepard." The grin across Jack's face had gotten wider. "You fucking should have been paying attention. Now look what happened." Jack had placed the controller onto the table, and had gotten up from her seat, on the couch. "Now where's that goddamn chit?"

He could have argued, but he deemed it pointless. He hung his head low, and sighed. Right hand would rise up to point to the ceiling.

"In the bedroom, next to the lamp." James had replied, looking defeated. Jack had slapped his back, then hopped over the couch to head upstairs. Lori was dumbfounded, evident for James to see, when he looked towards her. After a moment of silence, James had shaken his head.

"I lost a bet."

"Ah…Ok." Lori had nodded, though she still didn't quite understand. That, however, was none of her business. "There's an event happening, down at the plaza, at 5." Lori had said, backtracking a bit, though she had never ventured that far, beyond the door. "We'd be honored, if you were to join us."

"Sure. I'll be there." James replied, hand coming up to his head, to brush back a few strands of hair. Upon confirming that James was coming to the event, Lori had nodded, once again, and turned to leave the house. As soon as the door shut, James had laid back onto the couch, closing his eyes, to get some sort of rest, for the day.

"SHEPARD!" Jack would call, from about the stairs. "THERE'S NO FUCKING CHIT, UP HERE!"

"…So much for that plan." James had said, opening his eyes. He'd then leap over the couch, heading up the stairs. When he reached the room, he saw the credit chit exactly where he'd said it was. A hand would come to slap against his head.

"C'mon , Jack. You're not even looking." James had said, a bit irritated.

"Nope."

Jack appeared, behind him. When James had turned to look, Jack had drilled him in his chest, causing him to stumble back and fall onto the bed.

"I'm not."

The doors behind her were slammed shut.


	12. From My Perspective

**__3:00, P.M. __**

**_

* * *

_**

**James Shepard**

* * *

It was quiet. Couple of minutes ago, me and Jack were playing biotic tag, all across the damned room. What turned out to be just me and her trading shots ended up with her against the floor, and me holding her down. It was nice, that little small moment of silence…

Then she had to toss me across the damned room. Killed the entire moment.

I let her have that bout. If there was one thing I knew, it was that, when it came to fighting, Jack wasn't one to back down. Same would have gone for me, had I not been worried about damaging the relics of my past. Jack being Jack, though, took it as 'being a pussy'.

Some things…You just can't explain.

When things settled down, I had my mind on 5. Because at that time, I was supposed to head out to some sort of party. Never really got the details of it, though. I assumed we'd have to put on something classy, when we did show..But therein lies the problem. Something like that's just not gonna click with Jack, no matter how much I try to persuade her. No matter how much I try to convince her that being in a dress is not going to cause the end of the world.

But then..I had to see this from her side. Gorgeous as she was, there was no way in hell that she was going to rock a dress. Even I couldn't see it. Plus, there was no real guarantee that she was going to was going to go any sort of party that worked that way – there was no real guarantee that I would, either. Everytime I did, it was for the sake of keeping a good image. But what image was there left to keep?

Council thinks I'm bat-shit crazy, Alliance is wary of me because they think I'm with Cerberus, Ash doesn't trust me, anymore – hell, I've never even heard from her, since Horizon. Given our past, you'd think she'd at least send a friendly e-mail…

Friendly…Huh. Should have thought about that before I brought her grandfather into it.

The distrust wasn't just in Council space, though. Honestly, it was even more evident, in the Terminus Systems, and it was amplified by the fact that no one really trusted each other, to begin with. A former Alliance officer? Resentment. Spectre? Even bigger resentment. The fact that I've had one too many encounters with Eclipse, Blue Suns, and Blood Pack probably didn't do any favors for my reputation, either.

…But then again, I was never trying to gain it from them. Hell, after what the Council and the Alliance pulled? They can all go to hell, too.

Because in the end, they weren't important. Not to me, no. They stopped being that when they did to me, what I allegedly did to them. When they did the thing I had to wait TWO. DAMN. YEARS. To attempt to do.

Betray them.

Deny the blame, and shift it to someone else. A certain dead Spectre said that, once. I wonder if it was more of an insult to me, or them.

"Shepard." Jack had called after me. By now, she'd been testing out the comfort of the bed we were sharing. Haven't even used it, yet, and already, the damned thing looked FUBAR. I'd been sitting against the wall, below the window that overlooked the front yard, when she spoke my name. Last, rather. Never really got why she still called me 'Shepard', when she knew my first name.

"Yeah?" I called back, trying to work the tensing in my back.

"Get your ass over here. Y'gotta try this shit out." Jack slapped the left side of the bed twice, pinpointing where she wanted me to be. Hell, it was more comfortable there than it was, on the wall, and I sure as hell wasn't hurting the wall's feelings. I followed that command to the letter, and plopped down, next to Jack. She'd been sitting up, knees to her chest, and back against the wall. She turned her head to look at me…And that was it. Like she was examining me, or something. I didn't really mind, whatever reason behind all of that was. Because she'd forgotten that I'd knocked that goddamned visor off of her face, when I took her down, to the floor. I had a good look at those brown eyes, set up with an olive skin tone, and full lips. I tried not to smile, but my muscles won that fight. I was pretty damn sure that she could see the Krogan sized grin on my face, because in the next moment, her brows slanted inwards.

"The fuck you smiling for?" Jack asked. Didn't want to tell her why. Some I came up with something not entirely truthful. But hey, it was relevant, for what it was worth.

"The sun plays nice on your skin." I answered, when though I wasn't paying attention to much, other than her facial features. But just saying it caused me to look down. To the canvas she called her body. I shifted myself forward, and let my hand envelope itself inside of that star, etched around her navel. And then I gave the examining look back. Within four seconds, Jack swatted my hand back to its side, and snorted. I got her, I really did. She liked the compliments; showed that, as ugly as she tried to make herself look, that someone could see past it. That someone could look at her and say 'now THAT'S a woman'. Hell, it'd probably mean more if it was said right next to Miri, with her being the perfect package.

But at the same time, Jack didn't know how to react to that. She didn't know how to respond to a compliment. The closest thing I believe she ever got to one was someone copping a feel. But this? Guy walks in, remarks on her eyes, her lips, and her bod? First thing he goes for is the tattoos? Hell, I may be wrong, and I probably am, but I don't think that's ever happened, to her. Regardless, she's received her share of 'compliments'. And I guess she's going to respond to good ones the same way she responds to all of the assholes she's met, in her life. Regardless of the fact that she didn't count me among them.

"Do something wrong?" I asked. Jack's eyes was trained on the white walls in front of her; guess she was set on not looking at me. But at least I got a response.

"It's just…Shepard, you do these things, and it's just..I dunno, y'know?"

"What, compliment you?"

"Shit like that doesn't normally…It just doesn't happen."

"To you?"

"Fuck do you think, Shepard – ain't like I'm taking about anyone else!"

Playing the clueless card got me nowhere. The volume in her voice told me just that. Her eyes fell to the carpet, then lower, to the edges of the bed.

"Shit…I'm sorry, okay?" She'd finally say.

"Jack." I called, trying to get her to look towards me. Come to think of it, I've seen this look before. Once when she came to my cabin, before we made the jump, the second after the Collectors were stopped, and the mission was done. She got like that, whenever something got hard for her. Like she couldn't think of what else to do, or say. Or that she knew what she wanted to say, but just couldn't get the courage to say it. Could have been for one of two reasons; that she didn't want to be soft, or that she didn't want to be hurt.

She wasn't in danger of being either.

"Jack." I called, again. Slowly, but surely, she turned to look at me. Seeing those eyes again..Well, it brought back the grin. But I had something to say, so I was going to say it, before my muscles earned me a one way trip out of the window.

"Stop apologizing." I said.

"Come here."

* * *

**Jack**

* * *

Don't know what the fuck I was thinking, I just barreled myself onto him. Shit..Don't know what kinda game he was playing…But I _liked _it. I _loved_ that shit. All the time I'd been with him, not once did he screw me over. He doesn't want anything from me, and he's damn sure not hurting for a fuck. Just what, though? What the hell does he want?

…Funny…That's the first fucking thing I said to him. Heh.

The guy just holds me there. I'm back to having my head on his chest, where I can hear his heart beating. Ended up laying down with him; sitting up was getting' too fucking uncomfortable. And we just laid there, for a while. Neither one of us felt like saying a damn thing. Didn't need to. What we were doing was fine.

But then he just _had _to fucking do something.

I felt him kiss the back of my head – where the tattoo was? I could tell because of how smooth it was; anywhere else, the shit woulda been fucking irritating. Like an idiot, I just looked at him. I felt like caving his shit in, y'know? But…Shit. Don't think I should have looked. Because the fucker kissed me square on the lips, right after it.

That, right there? That shit, I did not get. Why all of this teasing? I mean, Shepard _claims _he ain't looking for a screw. But whenever we get like this? He's all over me. His hand gets real close to my ass, and then he _just..keeps..kissing_. I mean, what the fuck? Is he baiting me in, or some shit? This supposed to be his way of fucking cuddling? Why am I even CUDDLING to begin with?

I keep thinking that he's just screwing with me. Like he wants to see if I'll just jump his bones, at some point. But why do that? What the hell do you get, from accomplishing THAT fucking goal? Does he want to see if I'll crack first? So he can have something over me?

'Cause if he is, it's a little fucking late, for that. It's been a while since we killed those fucked up insects. And even longer, since then. Took five weeks for that shit back at the Citadel to blow over, and it's been at least 14 goddamn weeks, after that. If it was gonna take this long for him to consider me 'buttered up', I'd have fucking been a fossil, right now. Besides, it wasn't no secret that I didn't mind. Shepard's been good. It's just this bullshit here that just…Just pisses me off!

Well, fuck that. Fuck whatever he was doing. Fuck whatever he was trying to pull, and fuck whatever road he was trying to take.

I wanted him. And when I want something? I take it.

He thought he was done, but when he broke that kiss, I pulled his ass right back into it. Coulda swore I heard something snap. Fuck it. Not important, right now. I pushed myself on top of that fucking boy scout, and showed him who was running this damn show. Only time I ever let him break was when he had to breathe. Clinched onto his waist, and started grinding back and forth, on him. Think he had a shirt on, or whatever. Didn't care. I tore that shit apart, and left it where it fucking fell.

Doing this gave Shepard a big enough reason to palm my ass. Fucker squeezed super hard, so I set him straight with a jab to the ribs. Then he goes and slaps my ass, like I'm some goddamned Cerberus whore. Gave him an even bigger punch, cause of that; caused him to break the kiss, again.

"Do that again, and the next one's gonna break 'em." I told his ass, wrapping my arms around his neck, to pull him back into what I had, going on.

See, I had a plan. The shit he was doing? Baiting me into wanting to fuck him? Yeah, I was gonna do it right back. 'Cause Shepard thinks. An' he's a quick one, at that. So I had to be quicker. Figured if I kept at it, the way I was going, and if Shepard'd got a big enough hard on? 'Thinking' would have gone out of the motherfucking window.

An' sure enough, I was right. One little slide back towards his hips and I KNEW I was turning him on. Victory only got sweeter the minute he shouted "Fuck it!" and rolled me onto the bed.

Guy went straight for my pants, and I don't know how, but he got 'em past my fucking boots. Jumped right back on me, and was about to get his own shit in the open, when a terminal starts ringing louder than all fucking hell, on the left side of the bed. I could literally sense he was getting pissed off. Didn't go for the terminal, for the first few rings – he REALLY wanted to get this over with. But Shepard, being the little 'mission first, personal matters second' son of a bitch he was, finally had enough of that shit. He pushed himself off of me, and stormed to the terminal like a child with a damn temper tantrum. When he accepted the message, it was real clear that I got to him. 'Cause he really wasn't thinking straight. Which made for the enormously funny ass shit he had to say for the caller.

"There'd better be a goddamned code crimson fucking red emergency. Batarians had better be shitting bricks on the Kodiak. The Suns, Eclipse, and Blood Pack had better be attempting to hijack my damned ship. There'd better be a motherfucking Thresher Maw – no five Thresher Maws – terrorizing a damn colony. There'd better be some big information that'll cripple Cerberus. There'd better be some Collectors that survived the attack that are coming to get revenge. The GOD. DAMN. REAPERS…Better be in plain fucking sight. BECAUSE IF NONE OF THAT SHIT IS HAPPENING!"

"Um…Mr .Shepard? Ms. Smith would like you to come down to the plaza."

Words couldn't describe how close I was to dying from laughter. Hell, if there was a good way to go, that'd be the only one. Shepard looked like he lost the screws in his jaw, the way he fucking had his mouth open. Must've realized he looked stupid, 'cause he shut it, after a few seconds, to ask the guy on the terminal what it was about.

"She says it's about the party."

If I was laughin'? I wasn't, anymore.

"Wait…_What party_?"


	13. About Jack

__3:21, P.M. _ 

* * *

___________

"You just can't help pissing me off, huh Shepard?"

"I didn't kno—"

"**Bullshit**. You fucking knew."

"I didn't know it was going to be _THAT_ kind of party."

"You didn't even fucking tell me."

"**I just heard about it, Jack**. And I wanted to see what kind of party it was going to be before I told you."

"Took your sweet time, doing that shit."

"Look, I'm sorry."

"Fuck your sorry."

She was making it hard to please her. Part of me wished some merc decided to pop up and terrorize the place, so that I could vent my frustrations on him. Or something equal to that. Anything that'd keep me from shouting at her. Best I could do at the moment was just bottle it up. Keep it somewhere where won't affect me. Or her.

It was easy to do it, though. Pissed off as she was, she was still gorgeous. It was like every expression she made was just…Wow. I found myself staring at her. And then I found myself smiling. For whatever reason, I didn't know. But I probably should've stopped; Jack caught me staring at her, from the corner of her eye.

"I'm still pissed off at you. Don't even try it." She said. But I wasn't listening. Or giving a damn. Yeah, that's better.

We were being escorted to a clothing store, in a shuttle. Jack had been sitting in the back, as I was, yet she was on the far side of the shuttle, as opposed to my right. I couldn't help gazing at her. So I moved in close, to sneak an arm around her waist, despite the fact that she told me not to try.

Probably should have listened.

"Shepard. **Back the fuck off**."

She brought the point of her elbow to smack against my forearm, the minute I got it across. Hurt like hell, but I wasn't giving up. Kissed the base of her shoulder, where the cross had been, and whispered "I'm sorry" again. If Jack had heard it, she'd been acting as if I never said it. Because of that, I brought myself to kiss the side of her neck, and led myself up to her ear. Jack had jerked her head away from me, when I did that.

"Shit, Shepard!" Jack had said, with a small smile and laugh. "I'm trying to be mad!"

I was rewarded with a small punch. Jack had sighed, and laid her head against the cushions of the seat.

"I don't know, Shepard." Jack had said. "I don't see myself walking into a damn ballroom. And not killing everyone, anyway." She shrugged, at that last bit.

"Never said you'd have to go, Jack..But I want you to." I replied. And damn if I wasn't telling the truth. The last few weeks with her made doing anything else seem like chores. The kind where you hear them and say "Ah, hell, do I have to do it _NOW?_" Afraid I'd have to take out the trash, and mop the floors, after saying that, too.

And of course, fork over creds.

Because I lost – on some bullshit, if I may add – to her, in Tekken.

Here's hoping she doesn't remember.

"Don't think I'm doing that, Shepard. Not my thing." Jack had said. In a way, she let me down easy. I knew it was going to be a risk, asking her to go to any party, in the first place. "Maybe you should phone the cheerleader. Bet that bitch would jump at the chance to headline a party - Just fucking scream with delight." The words would have been enough, but Jack's immediate imitating put icing on the cake. She pushed her chest out, lowered her eyes to slits, and smiled a overdone smile.

"My name is Ms. Cerberus Bitch. I own this room. I own you. Bow down to my greatness, feeble peasants!"

And in the next minute, Jack snorted, laid back against the seat, and shot a look out the window of the car.

"Fucking whore."

I couldn't stop myself from laughing, but I managed to keep it from getting longer than it should have. When I gained control over myself, I spoke up.

"I'm fine, Jack. Besides, I don't think I'd want to see Miranda 'scream with delight'."

Yep. Really walked into something, there. Jack had slowly turned to face me, with large grin on her face. I could almost interpret the words that were about to come out of her mouth.

"And just who the fuck _would _you want to see do it?"

Before I could give the obvious answer, the car pulled to a stop. We had reached our destination.

* * *

__3:26, P.M. _____

* * *

_

During some point, in the store, we ended up caught in a dressing frenzy. Because of Lori. Had to be. Because I really don't think Jack would care if I had clothes on or off, at this point.

ESPECIALLY after what happened, a few minutes ago.

Whenever I'd come out in a suit, Lori'd shake her head, and then say "Next!". Jack, on the other hand, wasn't even paying much attention beyond me coming in and out of the dressing room. When she saw it was just another suit, she looked away…You know, now that I think of it, we were coming here for the BOTH of us to try on something; not just me. But I guess Lori 'forgot' to mention it to Jack. Or maybe it's because of the dark energy. You can never really tell.

At some point, when I had come out, wearing yet another suit, Jack had slipped inside of the men's dressing room. None of us had noticed it. Don't why Lori hadn't, but I guess I was just too…Bored. I believe that's it. I was bored, and just didn't care, anymore. Course, it's not going to see daylight, because it's disrespectful, not to mention ungrateful. I just had to tough it out. I mean, I appreciate what they've done, for me. And I understand that this was part of me coming to terms with my past, but…Is three days alone really too much to ask for?

Ah, hell with it. I could go about this, all damned day. It still wouldn't change anything.

I believe the suit I had been wearing was all black. I pretty much could have just brought the suit Kasumi gave me, but eh, I wasn't going to argue. I'd probably have to explain why the suit'd gotten wrinkles before it was bought, though. Because once I entered the dressing room again, and got inside my own cubicle, Jack had pushed me against the wall, and pinned me down. Nearly cracked my own skull on the bar above me – luckily, I wasn't that tall.

"The hell are you doing in the men's dressing room?" I whispered to her, trying not to make much a 'scene'. I pretty much got my answer, soon enough; before I could follow up, Jack had grabbed onto the back of my neck, and reeled me into a kiss. Her other free arm was trying to work the jacket off of me. She closed the distance between us both, and placed one leg between my thighs. I was halfway expecting her to knee me in the balls.

My mind had been going in two different directions. One was trying to figure out how the hell to tell Jack that this WASN'T appropriate. If I took too long, someone would come looking for me. And even if they didn't, there were other people in the rooms. Possibly children. Doing this here would damage someone's childhood for life. Not as much as I had it, but still.

The other half wanted this badly. All the time I've spent fighting, not once have I ever caught a break. For once, I'd get some stress relieved.

That half was starting to be the dominate one. Jack had unfastened the jacket, by the time I blindly made my decision, and pulled it past my arms. Whatever was left of the cautious side inside of me made just one last push, in an attempt to get this to stop. But I have to admit…If I thought it was going to work, I should've gotten my head examined.

"Jack.." I said, through a break, from her kisses. "What..The hell are you doing?"

Jack had broken a kiss long enough for me to catch my breath, and for her to answer the question.

"I'm bored." She said, and locked her arms around my neck. "Aren't you?"

"….Yep."

She slammed me against the wall, again, and I ended up sitting down of the bench. She had jumped on top of me, and put me through another marathon of kissing, before she went for the buckle. She whispered something in my ear, I know she did. But what she said was enough to bring back my own morality.

"I'm gonna fuck the 'netics outta you, Shepard."

Yeah, I believe that was it.

"Jack." I had to pull her away from me by her shoulders to get her to listen. I could tell from the look on her face that she was more frustrated with the situation than I was. Hell, I felt her pain.

"We can't do this. At least not right now."

"Jesus, Shepard!" Jack had said, rolling off to the side of the couch. "If you don't lose that bullshit Boy Scout attitude soon, I'm gonna fucking take it, myself."

"Just…" I couldn't find the words to explain it. I'd been fumbling around for the right ones for over a minute, before I just said what I'd said.

"Look..We'll get that done, Jack. Just…I need a clear head, right now."

"You hearing yourself?" Jack had cut in, shooting a look towards me. "How the fuck are you gonna get a clear head after this shit?"

"I'll manage." Saying that got me a scoff. Jack had shaken her head, and looked towards the wall.

"Fucking.."

I didn't want to disappoint the girl. Even worse, make it seem like I didn't really want to have sex with her, with the excuses I was coming up with. The way she looked made me think she was going to just…Lash out, at any given moment. Calming her down – or at least, attempting to – wasn't going to work, on its own. I was pretty damn sure of it.

Because so far, the day's only been about Shepard. Coming here to begin with was for me. Granted, Jack wasn't left out – I'm not trying to say that she was. But…There wasn't anything going for her, here. I don't know, at the time, rejecting her seemed like pushing her away. Like making her seem inferior, compared to what was happening…

I felt like I was doing it all over again.

Like I'd been treating Jack…The same way I treated Ash.

Like hell I was.

"Tonight."

"What?" Jack had turned towards me, raising a brow.

"We'll finish this tonight. No distractions. No rain checks." If I was going to do this, I was going to do it right. It wasn't going to be just some random screw, in the cubicle of a dressing room. It wasn't just going to be relieving stress.

"Once I'm done with the party, I'm coming straight home. And then we can do whatever you want to do."

Jack snorted, at that.

"Yeah fucking right."

"You think I'm kidding? You said it yourself."

"I said what?"

"That you were going to do whatever you wanted. And I wasn't going to stop you."

"If that's the case, I should be screwing you no—"

"Jack...Just give me time. Once this is all over – this party, Lori, all of it…"

Couldn't get anything beyond that. Whatever I tried to say, I believe I already said, in some way, shape, or form. Jack lowered her eyes to the floor, and it'd gotten real quiet, from then. Seeing as I was having a block on speech, I couldn't really do much, about it.

I was lucky. Because she'd broken the silence, for me.

"Shepard?...If you ever pull this shit, again?" Jack's eyes met mine, once more.

I'm gonna fucking rip your head off."

She just _HAD _to say that with a smile. That was a little unsettling. And this, coming from someone who should've been past that.

Jack had gotten up from the bench, and pushed past the door, to let me sit on that one, for a while. Smart girl.

* * *

__3:47, P.M. _________

* * *

_

The ride back home seemed longer than it was supposed to be. But it didn't begin like how the last one started. This time, Jack and I sat a little closer together. Neither one of us were angry about anything..But then again, I wouldn't know that. We weren't speaking, then. At least, not until we were halfway home.

I wanted to see if I could do something for her. Earlier, though. And something that wouldn't require…What tonight was going to require. In order for me to do it, however, I'd have to somehow get her to agree to going to the party. But I knew what road I'd be going down. I didn't want to push it.

But, being an idiot, I asked, anyway.

"You sure you don't want to go?"

Jack hadn't bothered to look my way, the entire ride home. Might've been thinking about this, just as much as I have. And I couldn't read her expression. I expected somewhat of an insult, but..She just sat there. Wasn't in a good mood, but she wasn't angry, in the slightest. I don't know. Thinking tends to do that, sometimes.

"Shepard…Do what you gotta do..I'm not stopping you from going..But I'm not walking into that. I'm just..Not."

There you go, James. The answer you knew was coming, but you had to ask, anyway.

But it didn't matter. Tomorrow would be the start of a brand new day. And from then on in, it won't be about me.

It'll be about her.

It'll be about Jack.


	14. Memories

__4:42, P.M. _

* * *

_____________

"Jack."

No answer. James stood still, hands at the collars of his own sleek, black shirt, inside of the bathroom that had been built next to the master's. Icy blue hues stared itself down, and James' mind cursed and punched itself for allowing blind optimism. Neither he nor Jack had spoken a word to each other, since their return, yet they continued on with life as if nothing occurred. Ate together. Shared a bed. All within silence. It was James' desire to break this, albeit much more sooner than he had done, as the silence left him in confusion. And in his confusion, he was at a loss of things to do. His mind cursed himself once more, for waiting until the last possible moment, as his beloved stood a door away.

_But there was no answer_.

Jack sat at the edge of the bed. Her elbows dug into her legs, and her knuckles supported the balance of her head. She had been thinking. About how far they'd gotten. About what happened, before the suicide run, and the last words they said, before her mind was made up, on him. Jack's memories of the one who endured, the one who took the bullshit she threw at him, and stood his ground, and the one who had proven himself, in her eyes, had brought back the actions he took to get there. The words he said, and the feelings he provoked. The memories swirling inside of her head were pieced together, as one would a cardboard puzzle. And when it was finished, the thoughts of him spelled out one conclusion.

'_Shepard's a fucking asshole_.'

Not just for what he had done, hours ago. She accepted that it was partly her fault, though she'd never admit it to his face. Or to her own, for that matter. Acceptance would be something that'd never breathe into life, from the biotic's lips. But the reason behind her conclusion was evident in the pieces hidden in her memories. '_The fuck was he playing at? What the fuck __**is**__ he playing at?_' In her mind, she saw another user; someone who didn't give a shit about her. Just another 'captain' playing with her feelings. Shepard would come down those steps, and start up conversations he knew the ending of. It wasn't that frequent, either. Whenever it did happen, it became a pissing contest. And it usually ended on a sour note. But somewhere in those talks, somewhere in the words he spat at her…She felt…Concern? For who, exactly? The first guess would be himself, seeing as he was conversing – or arguing, rather – with a person who'd been more likely to bash his head in with her own hands than any other human on the ship; probably even more so than Grunt, and Grunt only, as saying aliens in general would have been completely inaccurate. The first guess, so long ago, only served to piss her off.

But…The talks got more frequent. And fewer insults were hurled. Shepard looked at her differently. Different, but a look she knew all too well. It told her he wanted something. Yeah, he wanted something. Of course he did.

_Everybody wants something_.

She didn't hesitate to ask him. If all he wanted was some intimacy. "_If this is about sex, maybe you should just __**fucking **__say so_." And his response?

"_I'm not looking for that_."

'_Right. He says that now, but wait just a bit longer_.' She told herself. And she listened, and waited. But nothing happened. Shepard kept coming down, but never spoke of the proposition again. It was all just more of the same. More questions, and less answers. It confused the hell out of her. '_Just what the fuck is he waiting for?_' Maybe…No, it couldn't be. It wasn't fucking possible…Right? '_I must've hit my head._' Jack had thought. '_Cause..I could've fucking swore…No, no way – there is NO FUCKING WAY he's being serious!_' And then it hit her.

_Pragia.._

'_Is he…He fucking thinks he's my shrink, now? Who the fuck ISthis guy!_' The assumed revelation caused her to push away more. Some days, he'd get a few sentences out of her, before she'd shut up, completely. Other times, he was told to "FUCK OFF!" Pretty soon, the visits started to get less frequent, then they were going. Eventually, Shepard stopped coming down, period. She showed him. It was one less asshole she had to worry about. At least, that's what she thought. Shepard stopped coming down, but from then on in, he'd start assigning her to more missions. And in them, he commanded her to dive head first into enemy fire, knowing full well she wouldn't survive. He expected her to come out scathed. It was his intention. He didn't even apologize, for it. When the danger had passed, he'd slap some medi-gel on the wound, and moved on with the other squad member. No helping her up. No asking if she was okay. Shepard' shown his true colors.

_He was using her_.

It wasn't until the 11th mission that she confronted him about it. It was a memory she could recall, all too well…

* * *

5 Months Away From Suicide Mission

__1:09, P.M. ___

* * *

_

"Nnh! Shit!"

The pain from the last mission was not going away. Three buckshots, long since removed, had left a mark the size of varren eyes on her right arm. She'd taken a shotgun burst there, when Shepard ordered her to take down 8 krogan on her own, despite the fact that both he and Grunt were able to fight, and were well stocked on ammunition. She succeeded in doing so, but in her fight, one krogan managed to land the butt of his rifle across her jaw, sending her crashing to the rubble beneath her. It was then that she received the blast to her arm – the bullets tore through her shields, and opened up her arm in three separate areas. It was then that Shepard allowed the tank-bred to interfere, taking out the last few krogan with him in a breeze. When it was over, Shepard had walked over to her, fetched some medi-gel, and carelessly smeared it over the three gashes, causing Jack to scream out in pain. "Get up, and get moving" he said, as cold as ever. "We don't have time for this."

She could hear him coming down the steps, now. Probably to make up for what he did. He was gonna do it, sooner or later. '_Or I'm gonna fucking kill him._' He didn't even bother stopping. Shepard had tossed a Katana Shotgun – as her late Eviscerator had been badly damaged, during the fight – and allowed it to slide to her feet before taking his leave.

"Get up. You're on the mission."

"Are you shitting me?" Jack had called. When Shepard had turned around, Jack had pointed to her injury; an indication that she was in no shape to fight.

"Jack…" Shepard had said, in a tone just as similar to the one he used, on the last mission. "…I really don't give a fuck. **Get**. **Up**."

"_Who the fuck you think you are_!" Jack shouted, to which Shepard, still not moving, simply responded "In charge." She wanted to snap him in half. '_Seriously, who the FUCK does this asshole think he is! I'm not some fucking toy he can just play around with – no! No, fuck that! He's not winning this game – I'll be GODDAMNED if I let him win this game!_' Jack had folded her arms – an action that caused her severe pain, and snorted.

"Fuck you. Go talk to your turian."

"Did you not hear me?"

"I said I ain't getting up."

"If you're not moving…" Shepard had pulled a Phalanx from his waist, and let the laser dot play upon her forehead. "Then you're of no use to me."

Jack had stared Shepard down. She knew it. He didn't fucking care. In the end, he was just like the rest. _A goddamned user_.

"The fuck you playing at, Shepard?" Jack had been getting angrier, by the second. But he wouldn't relent. "This is what you want, right?" Shepard asked.

"Wha-"

"Is this all you're able to comprehend, Jack? I bet this is exactly how you thought it was gonna turn out. Congratulations, you fucking won. You're right. I'm a user. **I'm**. **Using**. **You**. Why else would I have made the effort to pry your filthy ass out of prison? You think I LIKE having you on board? You think I LIKE having to check my damn back, every fucking second I'm out there, fighting for this bullshit galaxy? YOU THINK I LIKE THAT SHIT! HUH!"

"Don't you fu-" Shepard had moved his gun to the side of her face, and fired off a shot that nearly singed off her left ear.

"Did I say I was done talking?" Shepard continued. "I'm not finished. I am not finished talking, and you are going to stay there, and listen to what I have to say, or so help me God, all the fucking biotic power in the world won't save you."

Tali had led the engineers above the room down to it, to see just what the hell was going on. Others would follow, soon enough.

"You wanna hear the truth, Jack? Here it is: _I fucking hate you_. I fucking hate Miranda. I fucking hate every Cerberus personnel we've got here, on this ship. Hell, after what I've been through? I have the right to fucking hate EVERYONE. Do you even know how hard it is to save this piece of shit – DO YOU KNOW! You know what, don't even answer that. You wouldn't know. You couldn't fucking know – you're so busy being caught up in your own goddamn damage that you're hell bent on killing anyone you _think _doesn't understand. No matter how much I hate every single fucking one of you, you know what I can't deny? _WE. ALL. UNDERSTAND_. Garrus understands – he was THERE. Goto understands. Jacob understands. Samara understands. Grunt understands. Kelly understands. Joker understands – hell, even **MIRANDA** understands. The one who really doesn't understand is **YOU**. AND WHY! Because you met a few assholes? What's a few assholes compared to a damn _defeatist_? You tell me that – explain that shit to me. Because I can't fucking see it, Jack, and believe me; I TRIED. I TRIED…SO GODDAMNED HARD. And all I have to show for it is –"

"FUCK OFF, SHEPARD!"

"**Exactly**. That's all you've got to say. To everyone. Fuck off's the only thing you know. Well you know what? I'm sick and tired of hearing 'fuck off'."

"And the funny shit about this is? I actually cared about your sorry ass. I hated every fiber of your goddamned being, and I STILL. CARED. I actually devoted whatever small time I had on this ship to myself, to come down here, every damn day, just to hear the same words…**BLARING INTO MY EARS**. _AND EVERY FUCKING NIGHT_, I'd say it was worth it. It was worth you."

"But everytime I heard those words, a little bit of my faith in you just wore the fuck off. And when you asked me if I just wanted to have sex? Oh. Yeah. Right. Every guy who asks about your life suddenly wants to fuck your brains out."

There been muttering, in the crowd that had gathered, below deck. Jack had been taken aback by the entire thing that it had left her speechless.

"Jack, I blew off talking with Garrus. Garrus has been with me, one hundred and ten percent, since the Eden Prime War. AND SO WAS TALI. Both of my friends – the only real people I trusted – were left out of my list of things to do, just so I could get a chance to talk with you. And every night, I got sent up to my cabin with another empty conversation. You know how much of an asshole that makes me? DO YOU KNOW HOW MUCH OF AN ASSHOLE THAT MAKES YOU! It killed me inside to do that to my friends, but I kept telling myself that there was going to be a payoff. That you'd finally come around, and see that there's at least one person on this ship you can trust. But no. Everyone's the same. According to you, EVERYBODY WANTS SOMETHING. Well you know what? NOT. ANYMORE."

Shepard had thrown the hand cannon he once currently gripped at Jack's head, to which she dodged it, before it could make contact. The Phalanx instead crashed into numerous datapads, sending them all crumbling to the floor.

"I'm **DONE** trying to feel for you. You feel more comfortable thinking I'm a user? You want me to be one? Then that's what the fuck I'm going to be. Keep your ass down here; contemplate ways to kill me. I don't care what you do. Cause as far as I'm concerned, you're already dead. Maybe when you actually die, alone, in that little hole that you call home? Maybe you'll realize it, then. That the one person who actually cared? The one person who could have been there? IS LONG. FUCKING. GONE. AND IT WILL BE ALL YOUR FAULT."

Shepard had turned on his heel, aware that the others were behind him.

"GET THE FUCK BACK TO WORK!" He shouted, and pushed past them all, heading to god knows where.

* * *

__4:44, P.M. _______

* * *

_

"Jack."

And then there was an answer.

Shepard had stood at her side, shirt and jacket fitted to complete the attire. Dark brown eyes shot towards him, as his sudden appearance caught while she'd been within her thoughts, taking her by surprise. He kneeled beside her, his hand coming to rest gently on her shoulders. His eyes faltered, for a moment, before returning to meet hers, to speak a statement he himself did not want to speak.

"I have to go."

Upon hearing such, Jack's eyes returned to the wall, in front of her. Shepard had lowered his head, remaining in that spot for a short moment, before he'd pat her shoulder twice, and left the room. It wasn't until a few more seconds that the footsteps leading down the stairs would come to the inevitable

SLAM

As the door closed, Jack's eyes closed, and she sighed a breath of relief.

Hard to believe that this is the same man that berated her, in front of his entire crew. That this asshole was the one she fell in love with.

She'd deal with it later. Right now, this crazy biotic needed a drink.


	15. Separate

__5:11, P.M. __

_

* * *

_

"_Keep fighting the good fight_" was what the members told him, passerby.

"_We're proud of you._"

It was something that James barely understood. Because the hero they saw was long gone. As much as the people wanted him to be exactly as he had been, two years ago, experiencing death – and _surviving it_ – does not welcome keeping together. It was that sole fact that caused James' life to take somewhat of a downward spiral, at least, in his eyes. Because before death, _he had it all._

A fine ship, a team of soldiers and battle-hardened warriors that he could place his trust in, completely, friends, a clear mind, and one goal. To stop the Reapers. The _Old Machines . _Nazara – who was known before his – or it's – time as –_Sovereign_, was only the first of what was to come. And if one of them could obliterate almost all of the Citadel fleet, the galaxy would meet a grim fate, staring down the purple plates of hundreds more. Thousands. Maybe even millions. To that end, James sought to unify the Milky Way, as it would be the only way to combat the threat of dark space.

While he was sure the going was going to get tough, he did not think that the battle would cost him his life. At least, not so soon.

Regretfully, he had to thank The Illusive Man, for that.

But the thoughts of the past where not to be concerned of. Not now. This was the present. And in the present, everything was reversed. The small, exceptional ship became a great, large ship, housing twice the population its previous adaption had harbored. A team of soldiers and warriors became that of mercenaries, extremists, and criminals, all of which gave him the notion to look over his shoulder, whenever he'd pass them by. In place of a clear mind, he now had hundreds of doubts. None that he could see, and those that he could, he struggled to comprehend. In place of unity, became the mind of a survivalist. Unity was an impossible goal. Peace, Eden, and galaxy-wide utopia, even more so. Eventually, someone will get greedy, someone will come to distrust another, someone will get desperate, someone would garner a new perspective, and eventually, a war would break out. Peace only served to delay the inevitable. And James was tired of delays.

Instead, he'd scare them into helping. He'd strip down their pride, glory, and wealth, and force them to submit to his cause. _To their cause_. He'd tell them that, if they were not to join, that the Reapers would "_eventually do to all of us, what I'm going to do to you._" If the proposal was rejected, it would be one less heat sink he'd need to carry.

"_Whether you love me or hate me, you know I'm right. This entire galaxy has to work together if we want to survive the oncoming invasion. It's going to take the strength of every known species to combat this threat, and it's going to take extreme dedication to overcome the odds, and destroy them."_

"_I'm not asking that you hold hands and skip towards the stars. I'm not asking you to make up for what you've done, or what your enemies did. I'm not asking you to like, love, embrace, or hold anything close. NOTHING of the sort. All I'm asking for? All I want you to do?"_

"_**Survive**__."_

"_Krogan! If your enemies die, who's left to hate? The turians, salarians – all gone. There'd be no one left to fight…But there'd be no one left to cure you, either. Letting your pride get in the way of your judgement will only serve to make your extinction quicker than the rest of us, and trust me…__**THERE IS NO GLORY IN THAT**__._"

"_Asari! You value peace above all else? Then why is it that you enlist as mercs? Use underhanded tactics to achieve your goal – oh make no mistake. Behind your false nobility is the revelation that you're JUST. LIKE. US. The sooner you realize that, and stop taking a backseat to the war that'll claim us all, the sooner we'll be able to defeat the Reapers."_

"_Salarians! You think you're smarter than us, huh? Is that what you're letting off? If that's the case, YOU should be in on this fight already! Smart minds like yours should already have found the threat out, and found some way to stop it, before their plans came to fruition. The fact that you're just as dumbfounded as the rest of them – save for ONE doctor - serves to prove just how small of a pedestal you actually stand on. You're smarter than us? Then PROVE it."_

"_Turians! The First Contact War is __**OVER**__. I repeat: The First Contact War is __**OVER**__. We fought a fight – so what? We ALL fight wars! We ALL hate each other. But sometimes, even enemies know they have to work together. I know that. You know that, and a certain turian vigilante I know knows that. I'm not asking you to like us. You probably never will. I. Don't. Care. But I'm man enough to admit that in this war? I can put aside my hate – if I even had it – to work with those I want to kill. The question is this: Are YOU man enough?"_

"_Quarians! You want to survive? First thing you need to do is __**STOP**__. __**FIGHTING**__. __**THE GETH**__. Koris spoke the truth, and I stand with him. If the others don't like it, then so be it. But regardless of whether you do or don't, they __**ATTACKED**__…Because __**YOU**__ tried to kill them! If you keep us this war, you'll die before you can ever call a world your own. You'll die, and the geth will rebuild, simply because they CAN. And death to one race favors NO ONE. Not you, not the geth. Not the krogan, not the asari. Not the turians, salarians, humans. And most of all, __**NOT ME**__._"

"_And don't think I'm leaving out the humans just because I'm one of them. We're so hell-bent on proving that we're better than all of you – we have an extremist organization to compensate that. But if you think that group accounts for all of us? If you think we hate you? If we think we're better than you..Wait until you see what we do to ourselves. I know a former Cerberus operative that willingly adhered to all of Cerberus' actions – even if they crossed the line. And anyone who didn't were subject to being ridiculed – __**even the experiments**__. The experiments who've been wronged, time, and time, and time again. To my knowledge, there are only FOUR humans who joined to make a difference, but were under no illusions to the true nature of the organization they followed. __**FOUR. THAT IS EXTREMELY PATHETIC**__. We humans need to band together, and stop this…THING that we're doing. It's helping NO ONE, and it's going to get us KILLED."_

"_You all may not think that this needs to be done, but unlike the rest of you, I'm a realist. Ignorance is bliss up until it gets you killed. If you want to die, then by all means, walk out that fucking door! But if you want to live? If you want to find glory, if you want peace, if you want to prove intelligence, if you want to bury the hatchet, if you want to build a house on the homeworld, and if you want to prove that your presence in this damn galaxy actually fucking MEANS something! Then help me stop the Reapers. Because if we all end up dead…NONE of us will get what we want._"

"_And that..Is being real."_

It was amazing, to James. The speeches he could pull together, in the spur of the moment. But everything he said – or rather, _thought_ – was something he'd need to hold off until, by some random moment, all of those species ended up together. For now, a different speech had to be done. Shortly after his arrival, he was called upon by Lori to make a speech that would rouse the newcomers – and some old faces – of the colony they lived on. James stood upon the edge of the stage, his eyes scanning over the dozens of men, women and children that gathered to lay eyes upon their resident hero.

He would begin to speak.

"My name is James Shepard…And I am the son of Mindoir."

* * *

__8:15, P.M. __

_

* * *

_

"Lady, that is your 75th shot of liquor – you need to give it a rest!"

"Fuck you, bar boy. Hit me again."

Jack sat upon an elevated bar stool, her right hand wrapped around the make of an empty glass cup. Red lipstick stained two sides of its rim, and a crack formed between them both; the result of the current force of the grip she applied to it. Dark brown hues glared at the pattern of the table she sat at. The dark forms of it looked more like tiger stripes, than anything else.

"I'm cutting you off. 'Sides, you haven't paid for any of those drinks, to begin with."

"Put it on my fucking tab." Jack had said, looking up the man's chest. Eyes would narrow to slits, in an attempt to read the tag that had been stapled onto the fabric of his clothing. "Dorian, huh?" Jack said, now looking up to see just who she was talking to. The man had a cocky build, and an uncolored rose, chained by barbed wire, had been tattooed across the side of his neck. He was old – probably in his late 40's – but sported a full head of hair, with no gray streak tainting the natural, light brown color of its strands. His eyes were the same as hers; dark brown. But behind his eyes were nothing but simple dedication. To his job, apparently.

"You said it was thirty?" Jack continued, pushing the glass towards him. "Hit me up with ale. Think I'll tie it up."

"Drink anymore, and you won't be able to get home." Dorian replied.

"Shit, I don't even have one. All the better right?"

"And you said you were _paying_?"

"Yep."

"But at the same time, you admit that you don't have a home?"

"I'm here with somebody."

"And who would that be?"

"Proddy little fucker, aren't you?"

"I am when I'm concerned about my job."

Jack snorted, and motioned her hand toward the glass she passed to him. "Don't worry about creds – it's coming. Just keep pouring the damn drinks." Dorian shook his head, and reached for a bottle of ale. "You'd better be telling the truth – I'm not getting fired, over this."

As Jack awaited her next shot, a group of men had walked into the lounge conversing loudly about women, and how they fucked them every which way. Seemed like a game of one-upmanship. Out of curiousity, Jack's eyes had scrolled over to the event, watching as the men took their places at next to the door, hounding each and every female that came their way.

"Aw, shit." Dorian had said, whilst finishing. "Those damn kids…"

"You know 'em?"

"I could write a book about 'em, girl." Dorian had set the glass to the side, and crossed his forearms together, resting them against the counter. "Long story short, they're just goddamned bullies with hormones bigger than a krogan's hump. Typical highschool jocks – you don't want to get involved with them."

"Vice versa." Jack replied.

"What?"

"Vice versa. They don't want to get involved with **ME**."

"Yeah? You keep looking their way, they're gonna find out." Dorian's knuckles had tapped the counter, alerting Jack, and causing her to turn to him. "Your drink's ready."

One of the 'jocks', a young, tall, well built man in his early 20's, had caught the sight of Jack grabbing the bottle of ale – rather than the glass, and chugging it in its entirety. He had blond hair, wild and shaggy, and sported a jaw strapped goatee. He wore a jersey – like the rest of the crew – unknowingly supporting his status as a typical jock. But he was more concerned about the guy drinking the bar out of business. As if he owned the bar, himself. He'd push off the wall, moving past his comrades, to head for the counter. Jack had just gotten finished drinking the ale, smacking the bottom against the counter, when he leaned on the side of the counter, attempting to get a good look at the person doing it.

"You see, Dory? This is the kind of shenanigans that I don't allow, in my bar." He'd say, looking to Dorian.

"You need to head back to your people, Eric." Dorian replied. "We don't need anymore trouble than we've already got, out of you."

"I'm not the one causing trouble." Eric would reply, pointing to Jack. "This little gu—I'm sorry, lady here's running you out of business, as we speak, and you're telling _me_ not to cause trouble? No wonder the governor won't hire you." He laughed, and then looked towards Jack. Or rather, her lack of hair. Brows furrowed, and a disgusted look would follow. She could feel him eyeing her, and she knew what he was doing.

"Enjoying yourself?" Jack asked, eyes still on the bottle.

"Not..Really." Eric replied. "You..Might have just ruined my night – does this girl even _live _here?"

"My name is Jack."

"_Jack_?" Eric had said, laughing before her name even slipped from his mouth. As this was going on, another man would enter the bar. He had an shaved head, and scruff across his face; all of a brownish color. He had an athletic build, and looked to be in his early thirties. He pushed past Eric's crew, and took a seat at the counter, on the far side of Jack's right.

"Eric. Seriously. Go home." Dorian had said, sternly. Eric had dismissed his warnings, and continued his talk.

"Seriously, this is a fucking dyke, if I EVER saw one. Look at her. Tattoos up her bald damn head, AND your name is Jack? Where're your parents? Do they even like you, anymore?"

"If you want to fight, maybe you should just fucking say so."

And then the lounge had gotten quiet. Eric's crew had looked towards her, as did the man to her far right. Dorian had shaken his head, and moved to the opposite side of the counter, to try and prevent the fight before it started.

"C'mon, now. Nobody needs to get hurt." He pleaded.

"You heard Jack." Eric had said. "She wants a fight. And I never say no to women. BOYS!"

At that, the crew had come to surround her and Dorian, who had jumped into it, to try and defend her. As the men drew closer, Jack had leapt from her seat, and pushed past the bartender, getting into stance to fight. "I don't need your help." She'd say to Dorian, who stood with her, nonetheless. "Wasn't helping you." He'd say, jokingly.

"Heh..Proddy little fucker, aren't you."

"I am when I'm concerned about my job."

The men were only a few inches from striking distance. In that moment, Jack had remembered something. She'd remembered why she was here – and more importantly, who she came with. '_Shit…Can't kill these fuckers._' She thought. '_But at least I can send 'em home with just a few bruises.' _It was time to act. One man was about to take a swing at the biotic…

But was knocked unconscious from the empty bottle of ale being shattered across the back of his head.

When the men turned, they laid eyes upon the assailant. The man with the shaved head had stood behind him, the barrel of the bottle being the only thing gripped, in his right hand. It was evident that he was getting in.

"Fuck you waiting for?" Jack had shouted, with a grin across her face.

"Let's get this shit started."

* * *

__9:40, P.M. __

_

* * *

_

"_Great speech." _One would say.

"_It's an honor, having you here." _Said another.

James had been stationed at the entrance/exit of the ballroom he'd gave his speech in. It was as he expected. Drinks and classy food. The occasional meeting the higher powers. Conversing with said higher powers. Mingling with the guest in overall. Taking about war, and the consequences. And whether or not James felt ashamed of what he had and had not done, during his career, in the Alliance. The last made him want to punch out anyone within arm's reach. But any soldier would have felt the same, discharged, or not.

When the last of the population was escorted from the building, James had moved to the now empty ballroom. He took a seat at one of the tables, yet to be washed, and the dishes yet to be retrieved. He'd unfasten the collar of his jacket and shirt, and had gave a relaxing sigh. '_It's over._' he thought.

"Shepard?" A familiar voice would call. When James had turned, his eyes met with Lori's, standing three tables away.

She, too, sported an athletic build, and lightly toned muscles – something unnoticeable, behind the suits she often wore, but she was now wearing a beige dress, with heels to match. Her height was just a few inches away from matching James', as were the other women he'd meet. She had a tanned complexion – though it was very light – which complimented her light brown hair, that went down to the ends of her shoulder blades. Her most noticeable feature – like a certain person he'd been involved with – was her eyes, with had been icy blue – the same as his. She'd wore expensive jewelry – of course - with diamond loop earrings, and a small cross, around her neck. He didn't much care for it. It reminded him of Miranda, in some way.

Luckily, Lori was nothing like her.

"Sorry if I'm bothering you. Just wanted to make sure you were good." Lori had said, apparently believing he wanted to be left alone. James was quick to reassure her. "No, it's okay. I mean, the _party_, yeah – I'm glad that's over." He'd say, with a laugh. "But I'm good." James had cocked his head over to the side, pointing to the chair sitting on the other side of the table he had been sitting her. "Why don't you come sit down? Must be tired, directing the party, and all."

"Ah, no. I mean, I need to get—"

"A few minutes to yourself won't kill anyone. C'mon."

After a small stream of thought, Lori decided to take him up on his offer, closing in the distance to take a seat, beside him.

"Okay," Lori had said. "But I can only be a minute. They need me, back at the office."

"I won't take up too much of your time." James replied, shaking his head, while doing so. "You said you went to high school with me?"

"Well, yeah. But we didn't talk." Lori had said, shrugging. "It was more like…Well.."

"You just knew my face?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"So what classes did you take?"

"Eh…Art, mostly. The others were just the same. Basic stuff. Didn't prepare me for this, though."

"You mean leading this colony?"

"Right. No one told me how to handle things, in this colony's situation. They pretty much told me to return and rebuild. So I did. Can't believe I made a good job of it."

James had smiled, a bit. But before he could speak, Lori's omni-tool began beeping. She looked towards it, sighed, and shook her head. "I'm sorry – I have to go. We can talk later." Lori had pressed up from her seat, and turned to leave the premises. As she had been walking, James had called out to her.

"Hey!"

As if she were a prey in the forest, Lori had stopped short of the door, and quickly turned her head back to James.

"Tuesday, maybe? It's my last day here, so.."

"…Yeah. Yeah, sure. Tuesday." And with that, Lori had turned to leave the ballroom.

Alone, James began to relax, for whatever minutes he could garner from this moment. He knew what he'd have to do, once he had gotten home. Hopefully, when he did, Jack wouldn't care too much about his time away, though he'd understand, if she did. In reality, he realized he _wanted _her to give a damn. God know he didn't think he was prepared. Maybe he'd never be. But he could try. He had to try.

He owed her that much.

'_Alright_' James had said, to himself, getting up from the chair he'd rested upon.

'_Time to go to work._'

* * *

__10:19, P.M. __

_

* * *

_

"THIS AIN'T OVER, BITCH!"

Was the last words Eric said, before he turned tail, and ran, along with the rest of his crew. It had been a while, since then. And during that time, Jack had done the unthinkable.

_She made friends._

The three of them, Jack, Dorian, and the Man with the Shaved Head, had all been sitting at the counter – though Dorian had done so, on the reverse side; he was still the bartender. Glasses were raised high, as the three had gone through their 30th drink, and Jack's 105th.

"Cheers!" The biotic had said, right before downing the glass, in one drink. The others had done so as well, but were distracted by Jack's grip on her drunkenness that they were unable to complete the task as quickly as she did.

"That's the 15th time you've said that, Jack." Dorian had said, placing his glass towards the sink behind the counter. "You're really that ecstatic about sending those kids running?"

"_Hell yes_. Good for relieving stress, y'know? Plus, those fuckers'll think twice, before they try that shit, again." Jack had motioned her hand towards her glass, but Dorian shook his head. "We're all out."

"Shit, already?"

"You're surprised all our alcohol's gone?"

Must've been a short fucking supply."

"Well, either that…Or some girl drank everything the store had. Don't know which is which."

Dorian had looked to the clock, behind him, and suddenly realized that the lounge was past its closing time. At least, for today. "Ah, hell." He'd say, moving towards a door leading to an empty office. "I gotta close shop. You two need to pay up, by the time I get back, you hear?" With that, Dorian had made his way into the office, closing the door behind him.

As if on cue, the Man with the Shaved Head began to speak.

"So your name is Jack, right?"

She'd nod. "Yep."

"Funny. I mean, you look like this one person. Was a bit of a wild card, too. Believed she got locked up on Purgatory, a while back. Heard it's gone, now."

"News slips fast, huh?" Jack had said, stretching her arms, and yawning. "Reason I look like her? Is 'cause I _AM _her."

"No shit?"

"Anything in that report mention something about a 'dangerous biotic'?"

"Yeah, why?"

As a demonstration, Jack had become surrounded in dark energy, erupting from her skin like flames from wood. She turned her gaze to one of the bottles in the rack, past where Dorian had once been sitting, and pulled it into her grasp. The bottle clinked, once inside her grip, followed by a short splash.

"Goddamned liar." Jack had said, popping the cap off of the bottle to take a swig of the newfound alcohol. The entire display left the man's mouth agape.

"Nice." Had been all he said.

"Glu y thn so." Jack's mouth had been full of alcohol, evident when the words she spoke were unable to be deciphered, even by the most efficient.

"Come again?" The man had said, to which Jack had swallowed the drink, finishing off any remaining alcohol the lounge had.

"I said, I'm glad you think so."

Jack had sat the bottle against the counter, and belched as loud as she possibly could.

"Shit." Jack had cleared her throat, afterwards. While she had done so, the man had checked his watch, and, upon a startling realization, had leapt off of his own seat. He then had tapped into his omni-tool, to write in his payment to the console, at the corner of the desk. After which, he moved to head out the door. Jack had spun, on her barstool, to catch him going, and called after him.

"Where you goin?"

"Ah." The man had stopped, rubbing his chin. "I was supposed to find somebody here. Can't wait on them, any longer, so I'm heading out. The shuttle off world leaves, in a about a half hour."

"And we were just getting along."

"Sorry I have to cut this short. Hey, I plan on coming back, so if you're still here? Maybe we could chat, sometime."

"Yeah, sure." Jack had said, smirking. The man had nodded, and had exited the lounge before Jack had gotten the chance to ask for his name. In the current silence, Jack had pondered about today's events. She'd drained a bar's entire supply of alcohol, and damn near ate all there was to eat. There had been a stack of porcelain plates near the sink to verify that. She had a good fight against a couple of weak little bitches, and made a few friends, along the way. And now, and from here on in, She'd have Shepard all to herself.

_Shepard…_

"OH SHIT!" He must have been home, by now. Jack had tapped into her omni-tool, writing the payment from Shepard's account, and had moved to exit the door. Didn't bother to close it.

The screen on which the history of payment had been listed had a severe lag to it. As such, the information needed for the cashier to collect the lounge's due did not show up until after 3 minutes time, depending on the moment the information was received.

The lag had temporarily fixed itself the minute Jack had written out her payment. By random, her information had come up, first.

At the bottom of the screen, two names were seen.

One had been James Shepard.

The other…

_Randolph Toombs_…


	16. Hate Me

**_The following chapter contains content for mature audiences. Viewer discretion is advised._**

**_I always wanted to say that._**

_

* * *

_

____10:42, P.M. __

* * *

The door closes.

Jack had ventured back to Shepard's home, and stood in front of the now locked door. The halter began to itch against her inked skin. She chose to ignore it. Dark brown hues had become wild, searching the living room for the man who promised to be home, before this time. Careful observation of the area had told the biotic that James had clearly resided somewhere else, as he was nowhere downstairs. Lights were absent, and so was sound. There was no evidence of his existence. At least, not on this floor.

'_Wait. What the hell is that?'_

Jack had noticed a small, white shape, lying upon a end table on the reverse side of the couch. Without delay, Jack had immediately made her way towards it, finding out, upon her approach, that the shape had been a note. Death lettered fingers would trail across the edges of the note, gripping it, and pulling it close enough for her eyes to see.

'Come upstairs' was all it said.

If she had not known better, Jack would have sworn that her heart skipped a beat, immediately after reading two simple words. It couldn't have. She wasn't THAT dependant – hell, she wasn't dependant at all. She wasn't punch drunk, head over heels in…Whatever this was, with Shepard…

Was she?

'_No. Fuck that._' Jack had told herself. '_It's just sex. Nothing to get excited over._' In a attempt to rid herself of the feeling, the note held within her hand was crushed into a ball of nothingness, tossed over to the side for someone who wasn't her to pick up and throw away. She then had moved to the stairs, boots moving to climb up the structure.

As she did, the memories had drifted back into her head.

_Thump_

_Thump_

The first had been where the two had first met; The Purgatory. She had been fixed on ending a batarian's life, when Shepard had done it, for her. Whenever the two locked eyes, Jack had felt a swirl of emotions overtake her, the strongest of which had been something she was afraid to admit to. A word she'd rather be killed before saying. A feeling that took from her, in more ways than she could count on her fingers, her scars, tattoos, or her shaved head. An overall emotion she despised.

_Love_

As much as she wanted to deny it, she knew the symptoms were there. The symptoms were permanent so long as the cause still drawed breath. And the cause made it clear, time and time again, that it was not going anywhere. She wished she were still in cryo. Or even attempted to take the ship she'd noticed, before he made his way to her. It'd be easier, then. It'd be simple. Predictable.

But now, she couldn't tell what was going to happen. In every prediction she made of him, she was always proved wrong. Shepard was nothing like she'd thought he was. He was safe. He was a boy scout, but he wasn't a pussy. The way he spoke aboard the ship seemed stale – save for whenever he got angry – but maybe it was because he lost his emotion when he'd lost his family. Maybe it was because he'd been too far away from home, or just away, for too long. Maybe it was because he was lost, too.

Maybe they were more alike than she'd thought?

'_Alike? Yeah fucking right._'

_Thump_

_Thump_

_But was he? _They've both lost a lot. If she had to, she could say that the one thing they'd lost that was similar was chance. An option, or free will. They were both locked onto their roles, in this galaxy, though through different paths, and darker molds. Another thing that Jack hated, but loved about Shepard, was that he made her _think_. The other johns? They were always the same. Nothing to lose sleep over. She knew exactly what to expect out of every single one. And there laid one bright spot, in her life. She gained perspective. But at the cost of logic. Thinking back, Jack had realized she'd never gave any of her victims – her users – a chance to explain their case. To prove to her that they weren't what she pegged them out to be. Maybe she should have. Maybe her life could have taken a better course.

'_And get stabbed in the back? I'd rather take my chances with dealing death, instead of having it dealt to me.'_

_Thump_

_Thump_

'_Shit. Ah shit. Shit!_ _No, what the fuck are you doing? Goddamn it, Jack – not now! C'mon!_'

She wanted to turn, and head back down those steps. But she kept pressing forward. She wasn't going to be scared. Not of this, and not of Shepard. If she left, it'd be as if all of her experiences were for naught. As if she'd taken to school, learned every possible subject, only to have her mentor tell her that, for all her intelligence, she had yet to truly learn anything. She wasn't doing that to herself. Not to her, and not to the one guy who seemed to care. The one guy who gives a shit.

The memories had come back.

"_You wanna hear the truth, Jack? Here it is: I fucking hate you._"

'_Shit…Was he for real?_' Jack would ask herself. She hoped to god he wasn't. Because if he were…She couldn't bring herself to think about it. About what she would have done, if this had all been a lie. What if it was a lie? What if Shepard really didn't care? What if this was just…A damn dream?

If it was a dream, she wanted to wake up. She'd curse sleep, forever, right after it. Probably would never close her eyes, for more than a few seconds, if she could help it…But if she woke up, it'd only serve to hurt her, again. It was the last thing she wanted – and she'd be goddamned if she was the one to cause the pain. All of a sudden, waking didn't seem like a progressive idea. In fact, waking would be her ultimate, final downfall.

No…She was fine, just the way she was.

'_Stay sleep. If this is a dream…I don't wanna wake up._'

'_I like this. Whatever this is. Me and Shepard, it's like…Everything's alright. So if it's a dream, fine. Keep fucking dreamin'. Keep fucking dreamin' forever. I could die in my goddamn sleep, and not give a shit. I don't even care. 'Cause if Shepard ain't real, I don't wanna be, either. I'm tired of being hurt. I'm sick and fucking tired of it. And if I gotta give up my life to have this? Peace? Fucking…Love…Then so be it. I need this. I fucking DESERVE it._'

'_God? If you're up there…I ain't never asked you for shit before, in my life. Maybe it's because I don't think you're listening. Maybe it's because I don't think you even fucking exist. But if you are? If you are listening, and if you do exist…Then listen the fuck up._'

'_I don't know what kind of sick fucking plan you've got, for my life, but I want it to STOP. All of this shit you've dumped on me's gotta have a payoff. And if there is one, I'm asking that you let me keep it. Cause if I lose this? If I lose Shepard? I swear to you, I will kill every last son of a bitch living in this fucking galaxy. I hope you hear me, cause I'm VERY fucking serious. If you take him away from me, I'll destroy everything you've built.` And then I'll keep destroying. 'Cause that shit ain't fair – it's not FUCKING FAIR! Why does everyone else get to have everything? Why do I have to keep taking shit from you? Why can't I have something nice, for once? I'm just…_'

'_Please…Let Shepard be real. Please…Don't fu…Don't take him away from me. Please…_'

'_I'll take all the shit you can throw at me. Just…Don't. Let me have this one thing. Let me have Shepard._'

'_Please…'_

Jack had reached the top of the stairs. Soon enough, she had made her way into the master bedroom, to find him standing at the window, glancing out towards the sky and stars. The jacket he had worn had long since been removed, as well had the shoes that had come with the attire, in its entirety. The collar of his shirt had been undone, as were the cuffs that formerly binded themselves onto his arm. The first time she tried to speak, she choked on her own words. This would have been easy, if she'd had fucked him, back at the clothing store. Now, it was just too goddamned hard.

"…Shepard.."

James had turned around, his eyes meeting hers. And, without wasting time, he closed the distance between them. Jack had found herself backtracking; For what reason, she could not comprehend. But it was to no avail; James had wrapped her inside his arms, and met her lips with his. Her hands, suddenly warmer than usual, had pressed against the opening of James' shirt, trailing against the skin on his chest. Emotions had flooded in, as well as the memories she'd been trying to shut out, the minute she entered the room. James' arms had reached down to her thighs, and he'd pull, lifting her off her feet, and laying her gently against the cushions of their shared bed. Jack could hear her lover's soft breathing against her exposed skin as he mounted her, favoring one side of her collarbone.

Just then, as if to challenge her, in her situation, the memory that bothered her the most repeated itself.

"_I fucking hate you._"

She didn't want this to stop. She wanted this. The feeling of doing something right. The warmth and touch of a real man. She begged herself not to voice those words she'd carry, at the front of her mind, but curiosity got the better of her. Curiosity, and an extreme desire to hear him reassure her. An extreme desire for reconciliation. Between breaths of kisses given and received, Jack had uttered the words.

"Do you hate me?"

James had become frozen in place, looking into her eyes with a face of confusion. As if he didn't hear her correctly. Maybe he didn't. Believing that to be the case, Jack had repeated the words.

"_Do you hate me, Shepard?_"

"…No."

Jack had snaked her arms behind her commander's neck, and pressed him forward, locking themselves into a passionate kiss. As their tongues wrestled for dominance, James had used his hands to undo his shirt, which was tossed to the side, the minute it was done. Jack's own arms slid from their current position to remove the halter that James had given her. As such, they had to break the kiss, leading James to reach for her pants, which were effectively pulled past her boots, once more. There she lay, naked, and for all of her tattoos to be seen. It was a sight to behold. James had pictured himself as a critic in an exhibition that had laid eyes on one exceptional piece of work. The way her scars intertwined with her tattoos the way vines would a branch, the way a bird would a crest, had captivated him. Jack wanted to jolt him back to the present, or say something that'd remind him of what he was doing. But she decided against it. This was one instance where words would be the least welcome. For the both of them.

James had lowered himself to one noticeable scar; the one that ran center of her chest. He then began kissing the base of her navel, causing Jack to slightly jerk backwards, as if she were alerted by him doing so. When she settled, James continued, tracing his tongue slowly up the scar etched upon the canvas. The taste of salt was heavy. The moonlight had done nothing but compliment the beads of sweat on Jack's figure; the liquid had glistened, letting the biotic bask in her hidden beauty, shining under the light of the stars. The scent only served to amplify James' interest; he had gone too far for it to have done otherwise.

Jack's hands had tugged upon the edges of his pants, pulling them from his hips, with little effort. She could feel him harden against her, when their skin made contact. Her arms would retreat to his neck, once more, to hold him above her. Words were unspoken. The two had simply stared into each other's eyes. From the deep, emotionally driven brown hues of Jack, to the cold, icy hues of Shepard. The warmth of their breaths soothed one another, as they held each other close. As if to give the signal, Jack had closed her eyes, taken a deep breath, and nodded, slightly. With approval, James had gripped upon his manhood, and inserted himself inside of her.

"Shit!" Jack had yelped, though almost silently. James had looked on with concern, believing it had been something he'd done. "You okay?" He'd ask. Jack had slowly nodded.

"Yeah…I'm fine."

Jack was fighting back lust. But at the same time, allowing it. She wanted this, but didn't want to go too far, or too fast. She'd had others do the same to her, albeit with less love, and more force; she knew how it felt. She would not do it to Shepard, so long as he didn't do it to her. Or at least, she could give it her very best shot.

It seemed as if the latter was more reachable than the former. Affection was being quickly replaced by primal lust, with each and every thrust the commander made, in her, made evident by her repetitive swearing, increasing in numbers, with every five, and becoming more potent, with every ten. '_C'mon!_' Jack thought to herself. '_You can do this. Don't fucking give in!_'

Moans were short but dragged, as the two continued their embrace. Jack had locked her legs behind James', and her arms lowered to his back. She forced herself not to dig her nails into him. She didn't need wild. She had it, a dozen times over. She wanted normal. And so far, it proved to be just fine. "_Shepard_…" she'd call, between breaths, urging him to quicken himself, to which he readily obliged. Her legs had tightened, around him, and her hand locked together, to keep him there. Their lips locked together, sweet to the touch, and had remained there so long as their oxygen served them.

Jack was becoming close to losing her grip on sanity. Before it had registered, Jack had lost her fight with lust, and had made defeat known, when her voice erupted to ear shattering heights.

"FUCK IT!"

Jack had pushed James to the side, causing him to lie on his back. She then mounted him, digging into his collarbone with teeth and tongue.

"_Tell me you hate me._" Jack had whispered."Say_ it._"

When she was met without a reply, Jack had sunk her teeth into James' shoulder, all the while reinserting him back inside of her. He screamed out in pain. Jack chose to ignore it.

"_Tell me you hate me_." Jack repeated. The memories of his anger endowed her. She wanted him. She wanted _that _Shepard. She could not help it, after coming this far. Her hands moved to lock up with his own, and her nails dug into Shepard's palm, damaging enough, but not deep enough to extract blood. James had grunted between moans. He still didn't say it.

It was then that the aura of dark energy surrounded her. With wide eyes, staring daggers into his, and overcoming lust, Jack would repeat again.

"_**Tell me you hate me**_."

She was intentionally egging him on. Though at first, he had no clue what she'd been doing. Upon repetition of the phrase, however, James had acquired the memory that possessed her, and it, too, became vivid, within his mind. With newfound knowledge, Shepard had rolled Jack back onto the mattress, and gripped onto her hands, placing them upwards of each other. The two of them had become drenched in dark energy, as Shepard returned her gaze. With one sudden thrust, Jack had let out a scream. James had pressed his chest against hers, and had uttered the words.

"_I fucking hate you._"

The two had lost themselves in lust. Both of which fought for control, at random points. Other times, they'd let the other bask, in a few minutes of command, before wresting the helm from him/her, once more. The mass effect fields that enveloped them both were getting dangerously close to being active, as objects around them began to shake, and tumble over. Neither one cared. Not anymore.

Jack had mounted James, in one last attempt to take control from him. As she did, James had sat up, meeting her chest with his, once more, binding her against him, with his arms. The rumbling had elevated to a full on earthquake, and dark energy struck out to nothingness, at random. They were reaching their peak.

"Unh! Fuck, Shepard! I..I'm gonna…!"

With one last thrust, the two had screamed out, in pleasure. The mass effect field had literally exploded, knocking away – or flat out destroying – anything not bolted to the floor. James had kept Jack close, holding her in the position they'd been in, before giving out, letting his back fall against the mattress, once more. Slow, deep breaths were common, among the two, as they left themselves to take comfort in each other's arms.

"That felt…_Good_." Jack had said, breaking the silence with a wide grin, on her face. Her head had come to rest upon James' chest, and a hand would grip onto his closest shoulder, holding it, firmly. James had returned the favor, cupping his arm around Jack's waist. He could feel the bristle of hair brush underneath his chin.

"It didn't mean it, you know." James had said, eyes closed, basking in her warmth. He could not see her, but he could feel Jack nod her head, in response. It was good enough for him.

Jack wanted to tell him something. Something she'd been afraid to admit. Something she'd been afraid to feel. She didn't want the word to get between them, however it would have done so. And even if she were not afraid, there was still _something_. She wanted a way out. She wasn't sure she needed it, but she wanted it, nonetheless.

Because of which, the words were never spoken. But no matter how much she'd deny it, she _felt _for him. She didn't want to end the night on a review of sex. It was done more times than she could count. She wanted to contribute, but the word that would allow it petrified her.

Instead, she chose the opposite of the word. This word had no place in their relationship, but it was the only one she could say. In a desperate leap of faith, Jack had chosen to say the words he'd said to her, long ago.

"I hate you, Shepard."

James immediately understood. His grip tightened, and a smile formed across his face.

"I hate you too, Jack."


	17. Care

_I would love to know if this chapter made any sense at all. Thanks._

_

* * *

_

__2:21, A.M. __

"You sleep wild."

"So? I like the space. You fucking sleep weird – in stasis, or some shit."

"Mhm. You talk in your sleep, too."

"And you snore, bitch."

"I don't snore."

"Wanna boot up the omni-tool and find out?"

"I don't snore, Jack."

"**Wanna boot up the omni-tool and find out**?"

"There's nothing to find out. I mean, unless you WANT to see just how possessed you look, when you slee—"

"Fuck you, Shepard. Your breath smells like shit, when you wake up."

"Low blow. Would've been good, but I brush my teeth, before I head to bed. I don't eat, and pass out."

"Wha—"

"4 seconds, and counting."

"You—"

"Two."

"Shit!"

"Annnnd this round is mine."

Sleep had not claimed either James or Jack, that night. At least, not yet. Through the hours they spent awake, they had done nothing but lay close to each other, covered underneath the sheets of the bed. Sheets that were not torn from the fabric, after the alone time they enjoyed, together. However, boredom had come to Jack a little faster than sleep itself did. And with boredom, an extreme desire to escape it had followed.

It was then that the two agreed upon an 'insult contest', to pass the time. Whichever one could score the most valid insults…Won. Rewards were not discussed, nor were they needed. Comfort was a reward, in of itself.

However, it seemed to be getting lost. James had sat up to mark his win upon a blank datapad – save for 11 marks; five of which belonged to Jack, and five to James, the newest of which being added to James – before placing it back upon the side of his free shoulder. He had been chuckling the entire time.

And it was pissing Jack off.

"You got lucky." Jack had said, rolling her eyes, and constricting James with her arm. Part of her wanted to break a rib just to shut him up. She put that at the back of her head. '_We don't need to head to a clinic at near 2:30 in the morning, because I kicked his ass for something I let him do._' However, it was something she regretted. Even though they were only poking fun at each other, with no real intended insults, Jack couldn't help but realize that, even though this was a game, _James had been winning_. She wondered if James really cared about the way she lived, or the way she acted. She wondered if he were lying.

'_Nah…I don't see it. Either that…Or I just don't fucking want to._'

'_No way in hell James would be lying. Who the fuck takes a girl he barely knows to live with him - on his home planet - for three days just to screw her over? It don't make sense. It doesn't, because he's for real. He cares about me. So I could give a fuck less about this thoughts I'm having. Or the thoughts I had._'

Reassurance did not stop her from asking.

"Hey, Shepard…?"

No response. Jack had turned her head up to look at him, and found that he had drifted off into sleep.

"Eh…Dumb fucking question, to begin with."

It would not be long before sleep claimed her, as well.

* * *

"_Who the…Who the FUCK does he think he is!_"

Jack had been pacing back and forth, a little too close to her cot for comfort. She'd stub her toe onto the metal railings more than once. And upon the seventh time, he hurled the cot across the room, with her bare hands, knocking over a few datapads, and nearly causing the heavy pistol she kept with her to go off. She screamed in anger, closing the distance the metal walls, now accessible from the absence of the cot, and began slamming her fist into the solid structure. When it did not suffice, Jack turned her attention to four stacked crates, and, with a sudden burst of physical strength, kicked the crates in its midsection, causing all four to topple over. There was virtually no way for anyone to enter from the left side, now.

She'd been defeated. James had just beaten her down with words, and she couldn't stand it. She couldn't think straight, and any ideas of leaving this alone diminished when James hurled that Phalanx at her. He needed to get hurt. He needed to suffer, for what he did.

"_He fucking needs to DI-…_"

She couldn't finish her words. The sheer mentioning of ending his life because of what he done had given her a clear mind. She could think, now. And in her thoughts, she realized something…Odd.

"…_Shit…SHIT! FUCK! AHHHH!"_

Jack would slam her fist into the walls, once more. And afterwards, she made her way up to the elevator.

The Normandy was empty. It was one of the rare instances where the entire crew had taken a break. Illium was their docking point, and they had all taken to bars, or stores that peaked their interest. One exception was the captain of the ship. James had resided in his own quarters, reading the intel he had gathered for a salarian named Ish; someone who Jacob had extremely disliked. He had kept at this action, until the doors to his cabin unhinged, hissed, and pulled apart from themselves. There, at the opening of the door, stood Jack, biotics flaring, along with her temper. She had scanned the area for her target. And when it was acquired, she made her move. James had expected to be in for a fight for survival, judging from the instability of the aura surrounding her.

But in an instant, the aura dropped.

"Wha-"

Before he could voice his confusion, Jack had drilled the commander straight in the jaw, causing him to stagger back, into the desk he'd been reading near. Jack had then jumped onto him, placing her hands across his neck, in a attempt to strangle the life out of him. However, James was the stronger, physically, which made his attempt to pull her hands from him all the more successful. James had used this leverage to pull himself back onto his feet, and was going to attempt to talk some sense into her. But before he could, Jack had reared her head his way, striking him with sheer force, and a loss of care.

Her loss of sense, too, as Jack had forgotten about the cybernetics used to piece the man back together. When their heads collided, it made its intended damage, but it also caused Jack to become light headed, for a moment, giving James the time he needed to regain his stance. However, Jack had regained her senses, the minute he had done so, and had sent yet another punch his way. The hit landed, and a small drop of blood had been extracted. Jack had struck him again, and caused a cut to form, across his cheek. Jack had struck him two more times, before realizing that James wasn't even fighting back. It only served to anger her, more.

"C'mon, you son of a fucking bitch – HIT ME!"

James had wiped the blood from his mouth, and responded.

"No."

"I said,.." Jack had sent her foot upwards into Shepard's face, causing him to fall back into his bed. "HIT ME!"

Jack had jumped onto him, once more, and began sending a mindless flurry of punches to Shepard's person. She no longer cared where she hit him, so long as she hit him. She felt herself losing energy, with each blow that was willingly taken. Shepard grunted, at the blows, but he never stopped them from coming. If she'd kept going at the rate that she was, could probably end up killing him. And then she'd be rid of his critique, once and for all.

But that…**THAT** was the problem.

The punches stopped coming, and Jack had simply stared into nothingness. Her first, once tightened to extremes, now lay uncurled, upon Shepard's chest. Her gaze was at him, but at the same time, it was elsewhere. Expressions disappeared. Memory lost. Jack couldn't even remember what it was she was angry at. Or why she'd come up to Shepard's cabin to beat him into a bloody pulp.

'_The entire point of coming here was to…to kill him. But…I…I don't fucking want him dead – I…Shit..Goddamn it!_'

And then, she could think, again.

The entire reason of coming up to fight Shepard was NOT to kill him, despite what she wanted to believe. It was never a case of being betrayed. He didn't betray her, or her trust. The reason she'd come up to fight Shepard was because she was hurt. Shepard hurt her, but he did it in a way that none of the people she ran with had done before.

He did it with words.

He did it with truth.

And he did it…Because he _cared_.

As much as Jack tried to find an angle, she couldn't. She couldn't find a reason that would explain why Shepard had acted the way he did. She couldn't find a reason that would explain why, out of all people, Shepard choose her. Nothing made sense, anymore. Trying to make it make sense only served to strain herself. She was tired.

She was done.

Tears began streaming down the biotic's face, as if the dam that held back her emotions was finally destroyed. Anger drowned in the massive amounts of mixed feelings that she had received. She did not know what to do. And it tore her apart.

She began sobbing. James had looked upon her face, streaming with mascara, and had attempted to provide comfort, placing his hands upon her arms. Jack had immediately slapped them away.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME! GET OFF OF ME!"

Shepard did not relent. He moved to pull her towards him, and each time, she struggled to break free. Soon enough, she no longer cared enough to pull away, and thus, was dragged into Shepard's comfort. The tears that painted her face slid past the side of his neck, and began to darken the mattress. Jack could no longer speak. Her throat hurt, whenever she tried. The tears would not stop. She didn't care.

She no longer could.

"It's alright." Shepard had whispered, to her.

"It's alright."


	18. Okay

__10:15, A.M. __

"Ungh…"

Morning comes. And with it, an uncomfortable waking.

Today was a new day. The air was fresh, and the fabric that supported her weight was soft, and clean. The sheets against her skin were laid up to her shoulders, and a small, but plush pillow had been set against her head. She was unaware, however, of any of this. As the migrane, and wooziness settled in, Jack had found herself regretting the amount of alcohol she consumed. The straining of dark energy – from both parties, at that – followed by the constant movement only served to worsen the regained hangover.

As her eyes opened, Jack had immediately pressed her hand against her forehead, in an attempt to shake off the effects. It did not work. She'd curse herself for getting that drunk, before taking her surroundings into view. Dark brown hues would take in a sight that nearly settled her mind, body, and pain.

"Damn, Shepard…" Jack would utter, as she scanned the room. She'd seen it before, yes. To her logic, it was just another room, just like all of the other rooms she'd slept in. There was no real need to get excited when one seemed more expensive than others. Or when it looked shitty, beyond comparison. In her time alone, she had come to learn that whenever something – or someone – was that expensive, it only meant that he/she didn't care about any of it, least of all her. Running with a guy living like a king only made pinpointing betrayal impossible. Because a guy who flaunts his worth is quick to show he doesn't give a fuck. And when someone doesn't care about anything, they leave it to rot.

'_How can you tell when you're next? They'd stab you in the back as quickly as they'd change the chandeliers._'

Running with someone who lives in the slums was simpler, but it was, by no means, safer. The man or woman would whine and bitch about how he or she doesn't have anything. And that they'd give anything to make their life better. They'd never say it to her face, but she'd known that, despite their wording, that she was included. Whenever they do get something nice, they keep it for themselves, and complain that it wasn't enough. Hearing those words, day by day, night by night, told Jack that soon, they'd have nothing left to give, for a better life. Nothing except her.

'_Irritating as fuck…But at least I'd see it coming._'

These revelations were incentive enough for Jack to keep her distance, when dealing with anyone. Because to her, aside from being the obvious user, there were three types of people:

The Careless, The Desperate, and The Joes (Which was what you were, if you lingered between polar opposites).

No matter their differences, they'd all betray you for something more. _For something better_. Jack knew it'd happen, one way or another.

'_I knew where it was headed, so I got them first. Never bothered with friends, after that._'

But that was of no concern to her. It didn't pertain to what she saw.

What she saw had been cleanliness. Everything that had been scattered had been reset into their original positions, placed so that the untrained eye would look upon the room, and believed nothing had happened. Even the bed on which they slept was placed properly – which was surprising, to Jack, as she knew she'd wake up at the drop of a pen. Literally.

As she continued her gaze, Jack eyes had turned to the nightstand, set on the left side of the bed. On the top, laid against an currently inactive alarm clock had been a note. Jack, being on the right side of the bed, was lamenting the thought of moving to acquire it, and had resorted to using her biotics to levitate it towards her. The note fell, halfway through its course, as she had forgotten how much of a toll biotics could take. She'd bury her face into the pillows, shouting profanities through muffling fabrics. This continued, until she collected herself, closest hand reaching out to grab onto the piece of paper to unravel it, and see what it had read.

"_Breakfast is downstairs. Might want to heat it up, though._

_-Shepard_"

* * *

__10:17, A.M. __

James had not been far. There'd been a building, about nearly the same height as the house he lived in, but greater in width, that had been positioned only a few yards away. Unlike his home, however, there'd been no sense of home. No brickwork, or mortars. No window overlooking the colony. No relics or memories of past long gone. There'd been nothing besides sheets of thick metal.

But, seeing as he owned it, it seemed only fair that he'd remedy that.

Inside, the building looked to be a hybrid between a barn, and a garage, each with their own sufficient space. James had taken to the garage side, currently working to attach a door onto a vehicle still in its development stages, all the while listening to music abandoned, with the help of his omni tool. He had just been finished screwing the last bolt in, when the entrance was violently pushed open. There, with a half empty glass of orange juice, stood Jack. She'd raise the glass up to James, her fingers twitching against it, as she began to speak.

"**When the FUCK were you going to tell me that you could cook**!"

From the look on her face, it seemed as if she'd been extremely angry. He had paid it no mind, however, and answered the question as calm as the breeze.

"Jack, I grew up on a farming colony." He said, matter of factly, and left it at that.

"So? Why didn't you mention it? Why didn't anyone else?"

"I think it's out of respect of the fact that I grew up on **this **farming colony."

Jack had been determined to get the truth out of him. Little did she know, what passed as a form of retort was just about as close to the truth – or dead onto it – as he could get.

"Besides." James had continued, rubbing his jaw, which had been granted a 5'o clock shadow, as he moved to the front of the unfinished vehicle. "You don't speak to the crew. Only three who know I can cook is Garrus, Tali, and Chakwas. Gardener, too, since I passed a few recipes his way." James had leaned against the thin, sleek sheet of metal that served as the car's hood. Jack figure had become less tense. Her fingers ceased twitching, against the glass, and the arm it belonged to bent, to relieve the discomfort of the straight lined position it had once been in. It also allowed her to drink the remaining orange juice that'd been poured inside, and she had done so, immediately afterwards. James had turned off the music, playing from his omni tool as Jack savored the taste of her beverage. When he saw her doing so, he laughed, prompting her to flip him off. She would then move to his side, to take a seat on the hood. The first thing she'd notice was the fact that there had been no instruments or vocal breaking into the air.

"Fuck you do that for?" Jack asked, pointing to his onmi-tool, to which James had shrugged. "Figured you'd want to get my attention, so it's yours."

"Yeah, I want your attention, but if you could hear me over that, what the fuck was the point in turning it off?"

"It's called 'being polite.' "

"No shit, dumbass." Jack had bounced her index finger from her temple, and shook her head "I know that. And you know _me_. I don't care about you playing it while we're talking – I was gonna ask you about it, anyway."

"Yeah?" James had said, clearly amused by her curiousity. For what, he did not know. "What were you going to ask?"

"For starters…what the hell is it?" Jack had raised a brow.

"Right, It's 2185…" James had muttered, under his breath, before he'd officially answer back. "It's music from the 20th century. Same time from where the Xbox came, remember?"

"Yeah, I know. Shit seems…Different."

"Different how?"

"Doesn't fucking suck, for one."

James had chuckled. Jack's eyes had gone up – from previously looking towards the omni-tool – to look at James, and when he caught it, he stared back. An arm had been snaked around her waist, in an attempt to pull the biotic towards him. She did not object. However, when their skin touched together, Jack had reverted her eyes back towards his omni-tool, and kept them there. A look of uncertainty had come upon her face.

"Something wrong?"

"I'm fine…" Determined to change the subject, Jack had placed her hand onto the arm carrying the holographic device, and had laid her head against his.

"Turn it on."

* * *

The wind howled, ferociously, attacking the swirls of dust that'd been kicked into the air, along with various weightless solids that had become detached, over the years. The sky was at its darkest. Yet the stars were unseen. Whatever peace that had been left was eradicated by the smell of dead flesh, and blood. The taste of sweat, and the heat of the flames surrounding him. Debris covered this world; it was unidentifiable, even with the slightest hints it could garner. Against these hints, against the debris, lay James, partially over encumbered by the weight of his N7 Armor. He'd been sitting on the ground, his back pressed against whatever support it could take. His hands were faintly gripped upon an Avenger, which slowly slid from his grasp.

He never blinked. Not once, since he got there. His eyes had become watery, and they began to itch. But he never blinked. Tears dropped from icy blue hues, as a streak of blood ran down his chestplate.

"_You're going to be okay_…"

He'd let himself go; he'd grown a full beard, and his hair hanged below his shoulders. Strands of jet black hair covered his face, dirty and disorganized. There'd been a scar upon his neck which long since healed, and a metal like object where his left earlobe used to be. His omni-tool had been damaged; reaching out to communicate with anyone nearby, but unable to find a signal. All blamed upon war.

"_You're going to be okay…_"

James had looked to the source of the blood leaking down his armor. There, he laid eyes upon a woman he knew. A woman he wronged. A woman he loved. She tried to stand, but a pain forbids movement. She whimpers, her eyes becoming wild, as she searched for a way to grasp onto whatever she could to keep going. To keep living. Brown hues would look up to James, her eyes sharing his tears. His hands would grip around the woman's ribs, holding her tight against him. She began to cry, asking the man who was to be her savior why she could not stay. James was unable to anything. He had already done everything he could. He would do nothing more than watch helplessly, as the woman's life seeped away, in his arms. As she had taken her last breaths, James fumbled for words to tell her. He found nothing. And in nothing, he found…Emptiness. Not in the word itself, but inside of him. The only thing that remained was three words. The three words he decided to fight. The three words that would inevitably crush him. The three words that consumed him.

You Have Failed.

And for once, he believed it.

James' revelation served to kill off any fight left inside of him. All he could do was offer false hope. All he could do was say…

"_You're going to be okay_…"

But by the time he'd said it, the woman had been long gone.

Tears, new in that they were brought upon by emotion, had emerged from his eyes. He would look up, into the sky. The stars had been especially…Red…Today…

And as he gazed, the 'stars' had consumed him.

* * *

"SHEPARD!"

James jolted awake, glancing around the room, frantically. He'd still had been home. He'd still been at peace. He'd still been lying against the hood of the car. He must've fallen asleep. And judging from the look of the woman who woke him, from the heaviness in her voice, and her lowered eyelids, she had been, too.

"Shit..It's almost eleven.." Jack would say, yawning immediately afterwards. Her hands had trailed down the center of James' chest, coming to stop at his abdomen. "I want to show you this place."

"What place?" James had asked, closing his eyes to block out the rays of the sun. "You'll know, when you get there." Jack replied, adjusting herself, in her place against him.

"What, we got to go, now?"

"If you wanna be fucking lazy, then no."

"We'll go, Jack. Just give me five minutes."

"For what?"

"To wake up."

"You'r—"

Five knocks against the door were heard. Both James and Jack had lifted their heads from the glass, looking towards it with confusion.

"I thought I had the day off?" James would ask himself, aloud.

"Get the door, scout." Jack had said, with false enthusiasm.

"I think it's for you."


	19. Old Friends, Old Enemies

__10:49, A.M. _

* * *

_________________

"Son of a…"

James had really regretted knowing people now. He had pressed off the hood of the car to come to his feet. Once he had taken a step forward, James had stopped himself, and turned to look towards Jack.

"I could always pretend I'm not here." He'd say, shrugging. Jack had shaken her head. She was all for blowing off the world to be alone with Shepard, but she knew that, no matter how much she wanted it, that coming to Mindoir was _her _idea. Far be it for her to tell him that overcoming his fears was a mistake.

Jack sighed. "Answer the damn door."

"Alright." James had said, with uncertainty. His pace would continue, taking him to the doors. When he had come to stand only a few inches from the door, James had stopped himself, taking a deep breath, before his hand would move towards the holographic lock. Buttons were pressed, and the green lock deepened, in color, before coming loose, allowing the door to come apart. James had prepared himself, beginning to speak, even before his eyes could register the visitor, for today.

"Lori, I rea—"

The visitor had not been who he imagined.

The man had looked to be in his early 30's. He had jet black hair – the same as James – with potent, dark blue eyes. He'd sported a thick, scruffy beard, and had wavy, shoulder length hair. He had worn a beige suit, complimented by the various jewelry he had worn on his wrist, neck, and ears. Upon seeing the man who had opened the door, the visitor had smirked, placed a hand upon his chin, and began to feign ignorance.

"Hey. So I'm here because some guys up here told me I'd meet a friend of mine. I damn near caused a car accident, trying to get directions – true story, I—"

"Matt?" James had said, both surprised, and pleased.

"In the flesh, babe." He'd say, the smirk on his face growing larger, as he did so. The two embraced in a brother-like hug, causing Jack, who had long since leapt from the hood of the car, to wonder whether this man actually _was _his brother.

"H-how did you..? I thought you were dead?" James had said.

"Look who's talking." Matt had replied, snorting. "They had your face up all over the news, when you ship went down…For about a week or two, where I was."

"And where were you?"

"…Omega, I think."

"Yeah, that explains a lot." James had said, shaking his head. But his question wasn't answered. When James realized this, he had asked again. "How did you get out of Mindoir?"

"Before the raid? Yeah, remember how my dad used to run with Eclipse?" Matt had asked, to which James had nodded. "That's why."

"They smuggled you out?"

"Pretty much. I would've gone to get you, but dad didn't give a shit about anyone else. So we – when are you gonna introduce me?" Matt said, looking towards Jack.

"Funny.." She'd say. "I was just thinking the same thing." Jack had folded her arms, and James had turned, stepping out of the way as to not obstruct either's view, from one another. "Jack…" James would say, motioning towards Matt. "This is Matt. He's a long lost friend; we go way back." James would then turn to Matt, and motion his hand towards Jack. "Matt, this is Jack. She's my girlfriend."

Upon hearing that, Matt had raised a brow. There were hundreds of things that he could have said, to object to who James choose to spend his life with. But it was James. Someone he'd been close friends with, for more than a decade. If he decided date girls like her, then so be it. He was entitled to his opinion, but he had manners. He'd respect James' decision, and leave it at that…Or after he made one statement pertaining to his choice.

"Huh, didn't think you'd go for tattoos." Matt had said, looking to Jack, and then to James.

"I'm just as stupefied as you are." Jack had replied. "Trust me."

Matt had chuckled, and then nodded towards Jack. "Nice to meet you." He'd say. "Can I ask how you both have been?"

"Honestly, I'm pissed off." Jack had said, looking towards James. "Didn't think we'd be getting visitors, today." James had shaken his head, and looked towards Matt. "It's not like it matters, we were going somewhere populated, anyway."

"And just how the fuck do you know it's populated?" Jack had asked.

"Did you kill anyone?" James had replied.

"No."

"Then it's populated." James concluded. He would then turn towards Matt, continuing on. "We were just about to leave, so—"

"No, no." Jack had said, raising her hand up. She had gotten an idea. "Let 'em come." Jack had then moved toward the door, past James and Matt, and made for the skycar that served as their mode of transport. "Hope you can hold your liquor."

"Sure I can." Matt had said, with a smile. The smile had quickly faded, as he started to catch on.

"…Why do you ask?"

* * *

__3:50, P.M. _ ____

* * *

_

"**SHIT!**"

Four glasses had been slammed against a rounded table. James, Jack, Matt, and Dorian had all been sitting together, with 67 out of 70 glasses – each for one person - sorted out, between them. Dorian had shaken his head, to try and get a grasp of himself, as he stood up, from the chair he'd been sitting in. "That's enough" He'd say. "I gotta get back to work."

"**Sit. The fuck. Down.**" Jack had said, shooting a look towards him, to which he began to plead. "I can't work, while I'm drunk."

"Little too late for that, Dory."

"Dory?" Dorian had said, raising a brow. "You calling me 'Dory', now?"

"I dunno – seems like the correct name for a pussy."

"It's like, what, three drinks left?" Matt had said, looking to the supposed bartender. "C'mon, man. It's not like it's gonna kill you."

"…I still have customers—"

"**FUCK THE CUSTOMERS.**" Jack had shouted, gathering the attention of all the patrons in the lounge. The building fell silent, save for the music playing, in the background. James, who had looked down to the table, in embarrassment (As did Matt. Dorian had buried his face within his own palm), had placed an arm around Jack's shoulders, and gently pulled her close to him, so that he could whisper words she could comprehend.

"Let's…Let's keep it down, alright?"

The lounge had gone back to its usual volume, after a few seconds had passed by. Dorian had moved to grab the last three drinks he had left, and downed them in quick succession. After clearing his throat, he'd nod towards Jack. "You happy, now?" To which Jack only smirked. "I gotta get back to work." Dorian would repeat, before heading towards the bar counter.

Jack had snorted, laughing for no apparent reason, and the others soon followed. They would get themselves together, after a few minutes, and Jack would reach for her 68th glass. "Alright, let's keep this shit goin'." The other two would follow, after her, clutching onto the glasses, and raising them halfway into the air. "Ready?" Jack would ask.

"As I'll ever be." James had replied.

"Ditto." Matt would say, after him.

The three had then downed their respective shots, slamming them against the tables. They had treated the last two just the same. When they were done, Jack had leaned back against her chair, and tilted her head back, staring up into the ceiling.

"_Fuuuuuuuckiiiiiiiiing GOD_." Jack had groaned, while the others laughed. She had returned to her former position, in her seat, soon thereafter, and placed a hand on her forehead. "It's what I fucking get." Jack thought, aloud, remembering that she had been dealing with a hangover, just minutes ago. A hangover that might've been prolonged. James had gotten up, from his seat, and had begun to walk towards the restroom. Matt had leaned back into his seat, as his friend walked by him. "Draining the main vein?" Matt had called.

"You know it." James had replied, to which Matt had laughed, slightly shaking his head.

"So how do you know Shepard?" Jack had asked, leaning forward, in her seat. "Kindergarten? Fourth grade?"

"My mom was doing business with his dad."

Jack immediately began to laugh. Matt had caught on, fairly quick, and chuckled.

"No, not like that. The agricultural business. She handled the funding, he handled the workforce. Plus, he and my pops were friends since—"

"Fucking kindergarten."

"Yeah. Fucking kindergarten. Anyway, our family just spent a whole lot of time around each other. Guess we were like oath brothers, or something. Like Liu Bei, and his brothers."

"That 'Three Kingdoms' bullshit?"

"You know about that?"

"I ain't that fucking clueless. And you two fuckers are more like…Gan Ning and Ling Tong."

"That would require me to have killed his father, or vice versa."

"You said your dad worked for Eclipse?"

"He 'works' for Eclipse, yeah."

"Shepard kills mercs. That might come, soon."

"My dad's not a merc. He doesn't shoot people, or walk around, in that..those tight ass suits they wear. He helps with the funding, like my mother used to do, here. Y'know, illegal shit that I tried to talk him out of. Funneling credits from a competitor's pocket, giving coordinates to some guy's shipment of insert-object-here, knowing the right guys, screwing the right asari—"

"Wait, what? He fucks asari?"

"He's committed. Never said he was faithful." Matt would clear his throat. "I remember this one asari he was screwing? Biggest bitch I've ever seen. Her name was Enyala, I think."

Jack had remembered this particular asari. Mostly because of the remark she made on Miranda's outfit. "I think I know her."

Matt had raised a brow. "You do?"

"Yeah. I killed the bitch."

"You have my sincerest gratitude. Seriously. Thank you."

Just then, the door to the lounge had been pushed open, with Eric and his crew pouring through. They'd push their way past patrons, searching for the woman that had defeated them, long ago. When Eric had found her, he shoved his way towards her, intent on 'righting a wrong'. Matt, being in the position he was in, had caught the men before Jack had, and cocked his head towards them, alerting Jack to their presence.

"Get up, bitch." Eric had said.

"Friend of yours?" Matt had asked, ignoring the comment he made to her.

"Yep." Jack had said, before turning to look toward the 'leader'. Her eyes narrowed to slits, and she spoke with a tired voice. "Look, asshole. As much as I'd love to fuck you up, again, I'm trying to be little miss good bitch, today. So go fuck with someone else." Contrary to her words, if she were provoked, Jack would throw 'trying' out of the window. She choose to let it be, until she had been.

"I don't think you heard me." Eric had said, grabbing onto the table Jack and Matt had been sitting at, and flipping it over. The glasses upon it shattered, as they fell to the cold floor. "I said,** GET UP**."

"Is there a problem here?" James had said, who had long since returned from the restroom. When Eric had seen him, he immediately recognized the Mindoir native, and had spoken to him with 'the utmost respect'. "Commander Shepard?" Eric had said, surprised to find the hero in a lounge. He had shaken his disbelief away, however, in favor of giving Jack what she deserved. "Hell, I should be glad you're here." Eric had then pointed towards Jack, eyeballing her with a sneer. "This fucking freak here keeps causing trouble in this bar – and she had the audacity to put her hands on me!" As the jock continued, Matt had to suppress the need to laugh, at his ignorance. And Jack, who could have stopped him, at any moment, choose not to do so, and proceeded to let him run his mouth, on the fact that he was going to have to eat his words, in his immediate future.

"I tried telling the bartender that she was doing it, and he threw a damn bottle at me and my crew – and told ME of all people to leave. **ME**! Like I was the one drinking all of his liquor, and putting him out of business! As the hero of this colony, it'd be a honor to get your permission to kick this..Disgusting, Bald..Revolting bit—"

"I'm sorry; let me stop you, right there." James had said, not amused, in the slightest. Teeth had been clenched together, and then loosened apart, as James prepared to speak, again.

"What's your name, again?"

"Eric. Eric Mathison."

"Alright, Eric. Before I begin – before I address this issue…I'd like to ask..What..The hell..Is wrong with you?"

"Wha—"

"Did you not think I saw that? The stunt you just pulled? Flipping a table over – breaking property that wasn't yours, I might add – to get at one girl? And then, you have about, what, ten or twelve people behind you? That's not exactly convincing, you know; that _she _was the one breaking things."

"You're missing the poi—"

"And I have half a mind to slap you, for talking to ANY woman, like that. Just because she's different from the other women you usually see doesn't give you the right to berate her for it."

"Why the he—."

"But, with all that aside, I wasn't here. I didn't see what happened, so I'm inclined to give your statement a little belief. However, this is only _your _side of the argument. With that being said, I'm going to draw my attention to the woman you attacked, and ask her for her story."

James had turned towards Jack.

"Jack?"

Eric was taken aback. "Wait, I never told you her na—"

"What happened?"

Jack had looked towards James. "He started a fight. I finished it."

James had then turned his attention to Dorian. "You were here, right? Who's telling the truth?"

Dorian shrugged. "Nothing got shattered until they started threatening people. She's telling the truth."

James nodded, looking back towards Eric. "Well, there you have it."

"WHAT!" Eric had shouted, angrily. "You're just gonna take their word! HE WAS IN, ON IT!"

"To be honest.." James had started. He had been calm, throughout this entire argument; a rare trait most were getting used to seeing. "I didn't have to ask him, to begin with. I could've just told him to show me the surveillance tapes. Should I tell him that?" Eric said nothing, but instead directed his eyes elsewhere, as he knew what would happen if the tapes had come to public. It was all James needed. "Thought so."

James had cracked his neck, and knuckles, for what he was about to say, next.

"So, now that we've determined whose fault it was…I'd like to get to the very much awaited fact that I do NOT take kindly to someone threatening my girl. I do NOT take kindly to someone threatening my friends, either. Now you know who I am, and you know what I've done. So whatever feeling that's telling you to start a fight? Don't listen to it. It'll get you hurt."

"That being said, I didn't come here to start a fight. I came here to spend what little free time I have on the colony that I grew up on. I'd rather do that in peace. So, before anything starts, I'm going to end this little feud between you and her, right now."

"From the looks of it, you still haven't graduated. Maybe you're in college; I don't know. But you're just a kid. And so is the rest of your crew."

"The woman that you are trying to fight? Is a biotic. And an extremely dangerous one, at that."

At the mention of Jack being a biotic, Eric had looked towards her in horror. She returned his gaze, albeit with a sly smile.

"She usually kills the people she has problems out of. So you should consider yourself lucky."

"Now, before I have to ask her stop flaying people alive, I'm going to ask you to leave this lounge. And for your own sake? **Don't come back to it**."

Whatever Eric was going to say had been lost, the minute he heard the word 'biotic'. At Shepard's comment, Eric had backtracked out of the lounge, signaling his crew to come with him. With the trouble gone, James had been left to deal with being the center of attention; the patron's eyes had been fixed at the situation the minute Eric had flipped the tables over. He scanned the area, looking towards each person that been staring, and shrugged. Wasn't much left to do.

"Sorry about that."

James had then moved to set the table back to its original position. Soon enough, conversations – related or otherwise – had sparked up, and the lounge had resumed its normal banter. James had taken a seat, and joined the two others, in silence.

"…"

"…"

"…Words cannot describe…" Matt had begun, looking towards James. "How hot I am, for you, right now."

"Try it." Jack had said, amused by that. "I fucking dare you."

"Mm, might want to watch your six, now, babe." Matt replied, turning towards Jack. "_He's in my scope_." When he said that, Matt had motioned his hands in the way a soldier would handle a sniper rifle, and 'aimed' it towards James.

The two had laughed. Afterwards, James had looked over towards Jack, and delivered a smile.

"I'm proud of you." He'd say. And when he did, Jack's laughter immediately stopped. After a few seconds passed, she would shoot a look towards her lover, and snapped at him. "Go fuck yourself, Shepard." It was now James' turn to laugh, along with Matt. As it ceased, the three had all fell silent, once more.

"…"

"…"

"…So who's cleaning that shit up?" Jack would ask.

* * *

__9:50, P.M. _ ______

* * *

_

"So we had to kill her."

"Damn. Bitch deserved what she got, but damn."

"Fuck you mean?"

"She 'steals' kids? And then called it rescuing them?"

"S'what she said. Not like she actually stole anything; Bitch was swiss cheese, before she could fire her gun."

"Are you always this evil?"

Jack had smirked, leaving the conversation at that.

As she and Matt continued on, James and Dorian had just been finished with locking up the lounge, as it had to be closed, due to 'renovations'. Handshakes were exchanged, and the two had gone their separate ways, with Dorian headed home, and James moving to his car, where Jack and Matt had both stood.

"You ready to go?" James had said, looking towards Jack, to which she had nodded. Asking that question had brought up something that Matt had forgotten. He would speak of it, now.

"Yo, James." Matt had said, motioning him to move from the car, where Jack, who had been busy changing through the tracks of the songs that James uploaded to the skycar, could not hear them. When they were far enough, Matt had stopped himself, causing James to hold his position, as well. "So.." Matt had begun. "I've been meaning to ask you…Well.."

"Yeah?" James had asked.

"Well, I've got a bit of a problem. I was gonna ask if I could crash over at your place, for a few days. You know, to get back on my feet."

"Ahh..I don't know, Matt." James had replied, shaking his head. "I mean, I came here to spend some time with Jack, and we haven't gotten a day to ourselves, since we've been here, so—"

"Ah, say no more." Matt had said, holding his hand up. "Mindoir's got a few hotels, anyway; I'll just set up, there."

"Thanks, man." James had said, nodding. "I appreciate that."

"It's no problem."

The two had then undergone the handshake, shoulder bump procedure. "You take care, now." Matt would call, as he turned to start the search for a place to crash. But just as he did, he nearly ran into a woman. A woman who seemed to have found who she was looking for.

"There you are." The woman would say. "You can't just leave me by myself, like that; I get worried."

The woman was of average height, and build. She had red, curly hair, and emerald eyes, obstructed by colorless spectacles. She'd worn a frilled, dark blue dress – though the color was unable to be seen, in the dark – accompanied by matching high heels, and bracelets. James had noticed the woman before he made it to his own, and quirked a brow towards Matt. "Someone I should know about?"

"This is, Uh..This is-"

"Madison Grover-Williams." The woman would say, extending a hand for James to shake. "I'm his wife."

"Your wife?" James had said, dumbfounded, although he managed to come out of it quickly enough to accept the handshake.

"Yeah..This is my Maddy." Matt had said, with little to no enthusiasm.

"Were you two going somewhere?" Madison would ask, to which Matt had cut in. "Let's..Let's not get in their business, now."

"I'm only asking if they were going to leave. Geez."

"Yeah, as a matter of fact." James had said, looking towards her. Madison had nodded, and looked towards Matt. "Well, we'd better get going, too, then. Don't want to miss your shows, do you?"

"I'll..leave you guys alone. See you." James had turned to enter into his car, which had been blaring with music. Madison and Matt had left, soon thereafter. While James had gone to start the car, Jack had looked towards him, shouting over the maximized volume. "I LIKE HIM!"

"YEAH?"

"DON'T TRUST HIM, BUT I LIKE HIM!"

"IT'S A START!" James would assume the controls of the skycar, and would begin to pilot it home.

* * *

__10:11, P.M. _ __________

* * *

_

"Still should've kicked his ass."

Jack had opened the door leading to the bedroom, and had let herself fall against the cushions of the mattress. James had followed, and had removed the shirt he'd been wearing, tossing it to a nearby chair. "I don't think he's going to be a problem, anymore, Jack. He knows you're a biotic." Jack, who had been embracing the softness of the sheets, had closed her eyes, and shook her head. "Shouldn't have told him. Would have been more fun to let him find out."

"It would have been more fun to have him go missing, too, but that's not why we're here." James had said, leaning against the large window. Jack had opened her eyes, and looked towards him. A smirk would form onto full, dark red lips, as she slid off the edge of the bed, to move towards him. "Yeah? So what the hell are we here, for?"

"Something a little quieter." James had said, through droopy eyes, and a tired voice. "Something between the two of us."

"Fuck that." Jack had noticed the way he spoke, and had slapped him across his face, all the while pressing herself against him. "You ain't blacking out on me, now." James' eyes had opened a bit, locking onto her dark brown hues. It was only at night that art such as this would shine its brightest, as the moonlight highlighted her body. Everything was perfect; the softness of her shaven, fuzzy hair, the triangular lights, on her right ear, that flashed, every few seconds. Even the scars she'd worn on her body were about the most beautiful he'd seen on any girl. It was something he wished he could tell her. Without her getting disgusted, at him.

"We never did try that shit Mordin sent you." Jack had whispered, into his ear, breaking his focus, and causing his eyes to go wide.

"Oook, I'm awake."

James had spun, in his position, placing Jack against the glass, as cold as it had been. Those features of the moon had been long gone, but it didn't matter. She'd be beautiful, without it; lights only served to amplify that beauty.

"Come here." Jack had said, wrapping her arms around his neck, and pulling him into a kiss. He had moved his hands around her waist, firmly gripping them, as he pressed her against the glass, even more so that she'd already been.

In one shot instant, the moonlight had flashed into James' eyes. Or rather, had brightened more. As if it had closed in on their home. Icy blue hues would look past Jack, to see outside of the house. And what he saw had pissed him off.

"SHIT!" James would shout, leaping for cover, while pulling Jack with him, narrowly avoiding the barrage of bullets that had began to riddle the window, and walls. They would scramble against the side of the window, waiting out the sudden gunfire. "WHAT THE HELL!" Jack would shout. James would look towards Jack, acknowledging her comment, and then looked to the side of the window, as the last of the bullets poured through.

The men who had fired were no longer there. Yet the skycar they took to get here still had been. When the two had come up to find the culprit, both were angered, greatly. Not by the fact that they were almost killed, but by who had attempted to do it.

The name of their assailant had been uttered between them.

"_Cerberus._"

The front doors had been kicked down. The fight for their lives had begun.


	20. Threatened

This is basically just a filler chapter. I couldn't really think much about what I was going to put down, and it was decided that this was going to be short, so yeah.

Anyway, hope you enjoy.

* * *

__10:15, P.M. __

_-

* * *

_

"You hear that?"

"Of course I fucking heard it!"

"Shh!...Move to the side of the door."

"For what?"

"Jack..Just..MOVE."

The biotic would move towards the door, leading outside of the bedroom, lining up against its left side. Once she moved, James followed suit, moving to the right side of the door. He'd become still, letting the room fall silent as footsteps approached their position. It was almost too late when James had realized that neither he nor Jack possessed weapons of any sort. Biotics were out of the question.

"What'd we do with the weapons cache?"

"Shit, I dunno. We probably left it at the barn."

"How the hell did it get there!"

"I don't fucking know, Shepard!"

"Ahh!" There was probably going to be irreparable damage done to the house for what he was about to be forced to say. But before he could say it, an idea was offered to him.

"You're army, right?" Jack would say. "Use your fucking fists."

At that notion, James had felt the need to slap himself, knowing that that was one of the ways he could have stopped the assailants from killing them. Instead, he shook his head, and promised to rethink his strategies, the next time he got the chance.

"Right." Was all he said. And then, he waited.

When the men had kicked down the door, James was there to meet them, launching fist towards the jaw of the first man who entered. James' free hand had stripped the Predator - the weapon of the assailant's choosing – from his grasp, shooting both him, and the next man who attempted to enter. Although the expected result was to see the men be thrown back from the projectile, it was soon discovered that neither of the men wore protection of any sort. And so the first shot had been the killing blow.

James had retreated into cover, checking thermal clips currently inside of the Predator. "Think you can not fuck the house up?" James had asked, prompting Jack to flip him off. She would then proceed into the hallway, out of James' gaze. He assumed she'd be careful…For about four seconds. After which, he immediately rushed down the stairs, to try and minimize whatever damage Jack was going to cause. Not to the men who were attacking them – though if blood somehow found it way on the walls, among other things, he'd be extremely pissed - but to the home he cherished.

However, once he reached the bottom, he found the rest of the men, unconscious, and stacked near the entrance to the house. Jack had been leaning against the walls, tending to an itch, on the side of her neck.

James was flabbergasted.

"Just so you know?" Jack had said. "You're cleaning the carpets, upstairs."

* * *

__10:22, P.M. __

_-

* * *

_

"How did this happen!"

"How the fuck do you expect him to know? They just got here."

"I wasn't talking to you."

"Does it look like I care?"

"God, would you give it a rest? Both of you."

It didn't take long for the authorities to respond to the attack. Police had closed the house off from everyone, including its occupants. James didn't have the rank to say otherwise; a fact that makes him wish he didn't tell the Citadel Council to shove that reinstatement offer up their asses.

The bartender, Dorian, had just finished inspecting one of the logos etched upon the cloth of one of the corpses. "That's Cerberus, alright." He'd say, brushing strands of hair back. "You think they'd stop making logos – or least conceal them – when everyone knows who it belongs to."

"I'm calling the Alliance." Lori had said, reaching for her omnitool. But just as she did, James had spoken, in clear objection. "No, don't."

"Why not?"

"Because…Because we don't need that much protection, okay?"

"You still know what world you're sitting in, right now?"

"Look, you don't have to call them. I'll take care of this."

"You do what you need to do." Lori would keep her hand close to her onmitool. "But I'm governor of Mindoir, and I need to do my part. Excuse me." Lori had moved past Dorian and proceeded down the road that led to James' home. "Stubborn ass bitch, huh?" Jack would say, jabbing her elbow into James' ribs. James did not respond.

* * *

__10:31, P.M. __

_

* * *

_

"Cerberus. I fucking knew it. Assholes. You think the Illusive Man sent them?"

James and Jack had traveled to Matt's hotel room, as their home was not cleared for them to enter. The original occupants had been outside, discussing the situation with Dorian. James had taken a seat near a desk close to the entrance door, while Jack began pacing back and forth, behind him, trying to make some sense out of the situation. However, thinking had gotten her nowhere, and the fact that James had been quiet ever since they made the drive over only served to anger her more.

"Shepard! I'm talking to you!" Jack shouted, but James remained quiet.

"What's your deal? You're a fucking mute, now? Can't talk to anyone?"

"Jack.." James would finally say, his head buried into his hands. "Can I please get five minutes of silence?"

"You'll get more than five, if you keep shutting the me fuck out, Shepard." Jack had replied, stopping her pace to focus on James.

"You don't..I mean, you do—"

"I don't what?"

And then it became clear. James did not feel like stacking one problem on top of another. So instead of informing her of something he believed she knew, he decided to put his mind from the thought, and focus on what was happening now.

"We probably need to start looking from inside the colony." James had said. "See if anyone could have tipped them off."

Jack wasn't stupid. She knew that wasn't what James wanted to say. But, despite appearances, she also knew that this wasn't a swell time to talk about anything unrelated to what just happened. As such, she let it go, turning to head out of the hotel room. "I'll check the lounge. Might get some info there."

"And if you don't?" James had asked, before she took her final steps.

"You're a smart boy. You can figure it out."

The door was slammed, on the way out.

James had looked through the window in front of him, and watched as Jack had left the hotel grounds. His head had fallen to the desk, and it remained there, for a few seconds. When it was brought back up, James had activated his omnitool.

"Well…here goes.."


	21. Past To Present

__11:49, A.M. __

_-

* * *

_

The next morning had been a different kind of quiet. Unwelcomed, and hated. At least it was, to Jack. When she had gotten back from the lounge, James had gone to bed without as much as a glance to her. Without so much as a whisper. When she joined him, he kept to one side of the mattress, and drifted off into sleep. He didn't say 'goodnight'. He didn't run his mouth about how beautiful she was, or how her eyes were mesmerizing. He never even touched her.

She could remember thinking about that. About all of the things he didn't do. It amazed even her, how she could just whisk up the memories of everything James had usually done to show his affection for her, without straining herself. And the more she thought about it, the more she came to realize that she missed it. She would never say it to his face, or to any other being, so long as she drew breath. But she missed it. A subconscious thought of hers asked why, and she fed into it.

"Why, exactly?" She thought. "You don't care. You told him to go fuck himself, when he said he was proud of you - you criticize him every time he compliments you. So why? When he stops, why do you miss it?"

She was prepared to answer that question as quickly as she asked it. But her train of thought was broken, the minute she received a message on her omni-tool. The answer she thought she had escaped from her grasp, and she fumbled for it, when she came to realize it was gone. But Jack had lost the battle. And after which, she slightly shrugged, her eyes coming to close, and her dark red lips parting to release a small breath of air. "Fuck it." She said, before tending to the message she'd gotten.

* * *

__12:20, P.M. __

"Alright. Keep your eyes open, though. And remember to report back."

Dorian had been outside of the lounge, discussing plans to intercept any Cerberus operatives that tried to pull what the last batch did. He had been wearing a brown suit, as opposed to the outfit he'd worn while bartending, and his hair had been combed and brushed to complete the formal look he had no doubt been aiming for.

"This shit.." He mumbled, before catching Jack walking towards him. "You're up early."

"Whatever." Jack had said, dismissing his observation, before nearly being struck by a skycar that was just taking off. Jack had stepped to the side, looking towards the driver in disbelief, before striking the hood of the car, with her fist. "Watch where you're fucking going!" Her knuckles had been imprinted into the metal, the result of adding some 'juice' to her scare tactic, and bluish flames began playing across her figure. After seeing this, the driver's eyes flew wide open, and he kept still, never daring to shout anything back. He waited until the biotic had continued on, away from the path he planned to take, before drawing a long awaited breath, and resuming with his own affairs.

As Dorian was within speaking range of the person he saw approaching him, he had seen the event as it occurred, and had shaken his head, while it unfolded. "Let's try not to turn the colonists against us." One arm flailed into the air, as he began to express his words through gesture. "I mean, it's bad enough that we've got Cerberus here."

"They ain't gonna be here long." Jack retorted, before coming to a stop, right in front of him. The boots she wore for today had sounded especially heavy; for with every step, there came the sound equivalent to a blacksmith striking hot metal against an anvil. "What'd you want?" She continued, slightly cocking her head back, while placing a hand on her waist.

"Lori, uh.." Dorian looked to the floor, sighing, before continuing on. "Wants you and Shepard to tell people what they're dealing with; they're holding a conference, in about a half hour."

"But they already know." Jack had responded, confused, and agitated. "Those fuckers were all over James' house, last night; they KNOW its Cerberus. And they know they want us dead."

Dorian's right hand had come up to scratch the back of his head. "Yeah…They do. It's Lori, though; she still wants to go through with it. I'm in no position to stop her." Jack had groaned, her left hand beginning to press into her forehead, to fight any headache that was going to come from this. As she did, Dorian had gotten a good look at her head, which had more hair there, then the last time he saw her. However, he didn't ask her about it; something told him it wasn't his place to do so.

"So what?" Jack had begun, her hand still pressed against her forehead. "You want me to go get Shepard?"

"Truth be told," Dorian responded, with a shrug. "He should have already been here. He got the message before you did. Did you see him, at all, today?"

Jack had seen him. And she knew where he was. But when she tried to extract the location from her mind, all she could retrieve had been last night.

The question had popped up, again.

"Why do you miss it?"

This time, however, she did not try to find an answer that was long lost. Nor did she contemplate why Shepard's endless 'smothering' mattered to her. Instead, she focused on what made Shepard act distant. As if he'd been sharing a bed with a stranger.

In her mind, she had two culprits; Cerberus and Lori.

Cerberus was easy; they think they own him, because they brought him back. 'saved' his life. They believed that he'd understand the consequences of their actions, and understand that, in the end, it was justified. Because only Shepard could save the humans. Only Shepard could save the galaxy.

But they were quick to turn on him when they got greedy. And now, they've sent grunts to try and take him out.

Lori was, in Jack's opinion, just another bitch who wanted to get in his pants. But if that was the only thing she could pin on her, she wouldn't be a culprit.

Lori was the one who sent James that invitation. Lori was the one who dragged him into ballrooms, and expensive everythings. Lori was the one who was stripping away James's entire purpose of being here.

Maybe James just didn't care, anymore. Maybe he just wants go back.

If he did…Then why did she fucking bother?

"I ain't his fucking keeper." Jack had finally said, as her own revelation pissed her off.

"So you don't know where he is?" Dorian asked.

"The fuck did I just say?" Jack had yelled back, causing Dorian to take a step back. Before Dorian could apologize, his eyes caught the sight of Matt, with Madison in tow, who had both been walking towards them. Matt wasn't as talkative as he once was, seemingly becoming as distant as Shepard had been. Madison had whispered words into his ear, possibly to get him talking. However, the plan failed, and Madison resorted to speaking with the pair, herself. Her hand had raised into the air, nearly hopping a bit, once it did.

"Hey, guys!" She'd say, with a smile. "Say, have you guys seen Shepard around?"

As soon as the question was asked, Jack's hand had fallen to her side, and she shot a look towards Dorian. Dorian had simply looked away, and shook his head. "No." Dorian said. "We haven't." Madison's smile turned upside down, as she shot a quick look towards Matt, patting his chest, before looking back to Dorian and Jack. "Awh…Well, Matthew here wa-"

"I don't give a shit." Jack had cut in, and looked to Dorian. "I'm gonna go have a drink." She said, backtracking into the lounge. "You three can play your 'let's find Shepard' game without me."

When the lounge itself was mentioned, Dorian had attempted to stop her. "Wait Jack, the lounge is—"

Before he could finish, she had already entered.

"…Y'know, she probably did you a favor." Madison had said, as cheery as can be.

"…Let's just go find the damned guy." Matt had finally said.

* * *

__12:29, P.M. __

"That's final, Shepard." Lori had said, back to James, who had been visiting her, in her office. "Besides, it's out of my hands, now. Once they get here, I won't have any authority until we're not under any threats."

" We?" James had said, who, up until this point, had been pacing back and forth in the office. "I was the one getting shot at." James had jabbed into his own chest, with his index finger, continuing on. "No one else is in danger, except for me."

"You say that now, but what happens when someone else gets shot by a bullet intended for you?" Lori's hands palmed the surface of her desk, stiffened through anger. "What happens when one of the colonists gets kidnapped? What happens if they decide to just ki—"

"It won't get that far." Shepard said, attempting to reassure her. "I can take care of this."

Lori got the sense that Shepard wasn't willing to let this go. And most likely never will be. She didn't doubt his abilities; she was almost certain that he probably could deal with these problems, on his own. But she had a responsibility. A responsibility to the colonists, and to the colony itself. She was assigned as the leader, and she was determined to be deserving of the title. Although she was sure that nothing bad would come of letting Shepard handle this, Lori felt that, since this was taking place somewhere within her jurisdiction, she had to handle it. And she did it in the best way she felt she could.

Now, the weight of the situation was no longer on her, or Shepard, for that matter. Her responsibility was now the Alliance's responsibility. All she could do was state that, once more.

"There's nothing I can do." Lori said, eyes fixed onto Shepard's. And with that, Lori had sat down, exhausted from the argument that had been taking place for an hour and thirty minutes. Shepard was at a loss for things to say, and was sure that nothing he could say to either Anderson or Hackett would stop the Alliance's ship from docking here, soon. It was a time in Shepard's life where he'd realized he lost the battle. But he knew he was going to. This was a one sided fight that could have been stalled, but not avoided.

He always knew he'd lose. He just wished it didn't have to be here.

Shepard turned on his soles, and left the office, without a word. He had taken a long, lonely journey back to the hotel room he had to rent out, as his actual home was still a crime scene, and thus, restricted to the authorities, and the Alliance, who would be here, soon. During his trek, he started thinking about how this all began. With operatives kicking down his door, trying to kill him, and Jack. It was clear they'd been a part of Cerberus, but Shepard was uncertain if the men who attempted this were actually acting under the orders of the Illusive Man.

As far as he was concerned, the Illusive Man didn't want him dead. At least, not until the Reaper threat passed. Until then, he probably would refrain from having to undergo another Lazarus project, judging how expensive the last one was. The men here didn't seem to care, all that much. About anything pertaining to Shepard's "usefulness".

He wagered that if the Illusive Man did know what was going on, he'd rather had him drugged and knocked unconscious, to be taken away to a lab he would probably know of, by now, and experimented on. Not killed. But he knew very little of the Illusive Man's intentions. Hell, the man said it, himself.

Shepard decided to let the matter be, for now. There was someone he needed to apologize to.

"Jack?" Shepard called, as he entered the hotel room. But there was no answer. So he called again. "Jack, you home?" His voice had rang out into the small room, with no response to join it. This prompted James to look around. The room wasn't a large place, and as such, the only place he could check had been the bathroom. Shepard had walked towards it, knuckles beginning to tap across the base of the metal door, as he called out, one more time. "Jack, you in there?" His hands had moved across the holographic lock upon the door, opening it within a few seconds. James had moved his head inside of the bathroom, checking for any sign of the biotic he'd been looking for. But she was not there, which meant that she wasn't in, right now.

James had sighed, and reached for his omni-tool, intending to send a message off to her, so that they could deal with what had been happening, between them. An orange line had been formed across an equally orange screen, flatlining in the center. James had wasted no time.

"Jack, this is Shepard. Come to the hotel room as soon as you can, I want to expl—"

And in that very instant, Shepard fell to the floor, unconscious.

* * *

__12:40, P.M. __

The anger of feeling ignored was washed away by the vast amounts of alcohol flowing through her. Jack's head had been nearly buried in her own arms, and a glass bottle she had clutched into her right hand. It was funny, that being alone could help you forget about feeling alone. She didn't mind it. She rather liked obscurity, most of the time. But she assumed that Shepard wanted her to share that obscurity. She didn't know. And drunkenness – however slight it was – forbade her to care.

Right now, she just wanted to enjoy the quiet.

She could hear the entrance to the lounge creak open, and footsteps enter. They had begun to approach her, getting slower, with each step taken.

"Don't you fucking pester me." Jack had spat at the man, believing it to be Dorian."

"…Babe." The man had said. "It's me."

Jack's head had turned to meet whoever it was that was about to catch an ass whipping.

But whatever violence she had left in her body had been drained out, when she realized who had been standing before her.

"You didn't think I was THAT easy to kill, did you?"

The bottle within her hands fell from her grasp, and shattered against the cold floor.


	22. The Unexpected

_12:42, P.M. _

* * *

The faintest of smells had awakened Shepard. Pain had rushed through his head, surging through his veins like electricity through wires. He grunted in response, and clenched his teeth; an absent attempt to grasp the sensation, and block it out. A sliver of energy was expended to attempt to move his arms, but they would not budge.

At his limb's defiance, he'd gain his awareness. As he came to, he found that the base of his forehead was warm with sweat, glazing over the dried blood that painted down onto the bridge of his nose. Blocks of an unidentified mass dug into his shoulders, forcing him to sit upwards. As it were, it'd been extremely uncomfortable, and he had been in no shape to change what was done.

For Shepard was tied to a chair.

There'd been an intense ringing in his ears, pulsing with the sound of approaching footsteps. His brows furrowed, and his eyes squinted. He knew he'd been attacked, and captured, but he needed any senses he could take control of to understand the threat before him.

"We've got him locked up in there." He heard, just beyond the door in front of him. The voice of the speaker sounded unnaturally deep.

"My men did a number on 'em. He's probably still sleeping."

"Then wake him up. I want to get some answers out of him before he dies."

The lock upon the door brightened, before dissipating into a narrow line. And as it did, the door had opened.

As he captors made their way in, James had looked upon a man he knew he'd see again.

"Well.." The man's voice echoed through the room. "Looks like we won't need to wake him up, after all."

* * *

_12:45, P.M. _

* * *

"You..You..!"

Jack was uncertain of what to do, with the man standing in front of her. Shock had petrified her, and confusion forbade her from saying anything.

The man had looked to be in his late twenties. He had been wearing a black suit, with sunglasses to cover his dark brown eyes. His hair had been at shoulder length, passing by his thick beard, which has currently being stroked, as the man made his way towards the counter. With every step he took, Jack stepped further away. She had been pressed against the walls by the time he'd been finished.

"So this is Mindoir, huh?" The man had asked, reaching over the counter, and retrieving a bottle of wine. "I always thought it'd be darker, you know? Like one of those places with a bad mojo to it. I was half expecting someone to tell me the fucking colony was cur—"

"YOU'RE FUCKING DEAD, MURTOCK!" Jack had finally said.

"If I were, would I be standing here?" Murtock asked, as he opened the bottle of wine. "I'm not all talk, you know; I can actually hold my own, if need be."

Murtock's gaze was elsewhere. He reached for a small glass, bringing it around to pour the contents of the glass bottle he held in his hands. "Drink?" He'd ask, but was met with no reply, prompting him to set the bottle beside himself. "Suit yourself."

His fingers wrapped around the drinking glass, and he brought it to his lips, downing the wine instantly. He'd clear his throat, setting the drinking glass upon the counter, before he spoke again.

"I don't suppose I can convince you to leave that loser?"

Those words confused Jack, but in the instant she that tried to comprehend it, she immediately understood.

"The fuck you know about Shepard?"

"I know enough to know that you've been running around with him for a month or two, but what boggles my mind…" Murtock had pressed off of the counter, and began pacing throughout the bar. "Is why?"

"It's none of your fucking busine—"

"Did you promise you riches? Be a queen, or some shit like that?

"No."

"Then what? You fucking him, now? Or is he fucking you?"

Jack's shock had instantly turned to anger. "Get out of my face."

"Help me understand, Jack. Because whatever he promised you, I can do that, and more." Murtock had now turned his gaze to her, taking a few steps towards her, as he continued on. "Honestly, you really gonna believe some damn boy scout? The instant he gets what he wants from you, he's gonna fucking sell you out. You know that – I KNOW you do."

"You don't know him." Jack retorted.

"And you do?" Murtock responded.

"More than you ever fucking will."

Murtock had shaken his head, and a hand had come to brush back strands of hair. "You're shitting me. Do you hear yourself? 'more than you ever fucking will' " Murtock had scoffed. "You let this fucking guy wrap you around his finger."

"Murtock, get the—"

"Wait…" Murtock had said, raising his hand, and taking a deep breath. "Seriously, I didn't come here to fight with you. I just came to get you out of here." He began closing the distance between him and Jack. Her eyes had been fixed onto him, ready to defend herself, should the need arise. "Just..Don't pay attention to me, right now, I'm just confused..But..Jack, I'm here. I'm not dead. I'm here. You don't have to worry about me leaving you. Never have, never will."

"Murtock.." Jack had felt for Murtock. But she could not help but feel annoyed at his presence. A month may have been short to him, but it was still a month. Thirty days was still a long time, and even though her relationship with Shepard was still fresh, it was the only time she had ever felt anything genuine.

"We can be out of here in a few minutes Jack." Murtock pleaded. "C'mon."

"Murtock, I'—"

"Jack!" Dorian called, pushing open the lounge's doors. "Shepard's in trouble!"

* * *

_12:50, P.M. _

* * *

"Agh!", Shepard had leaned forward, from the force of the fist that buried itself within his gut. That same fist had been cocked back, driven into his jaw three times, before the torture had let up.

The assailant had moved to a nearby sink, washing the blood from his caramel coated skin.

"Where do you get off destroying an entire star system?" the man had asked, his voice retaining that low, booming tone.

Shepard did not answer. Because of which, the man had signaled another to continue the punishment. Five fist had been driven into the base of Shepard's head, before the man had pushed the second assailant away. A hand had come to grip onto Shepard's jaw, forcing him to look towards his captor.

"You will talk." Was all he said, pushing Shepard's face away, before hitting him again. The man had moved over to the sink, once more, eyeing an object lying next to it. He began to crack his knuckles, and had taken a deep breath. "You humans…" He began. "You're almost more trouble than you're worth."

"Even if I told you why I did it…" Shepard began, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. "…I doubt you let yourself understand, Balak."

"Understand!" The batarian yelled. "Understand that you killed more than thirty-thousand of my people!"

"I tried to warn them."

"And what good does that do! They're still dead! Their blood is on your hands, and we WILL get retribution!"

The door to the room had come open once more, and another man had walked in. This man was no batarian, but he harbored a grudge for Shepard just as great as the aliens. He wasted no time in proving his hatred, as he struck Shepard repeatedly, once he had gotten within range. The batarians grouped up to pull him off, allowing him to calm down, and Shepard to regain what little consciousness he had left.

"We want answers first, Toombs." Balak had spoken to the human. "We'll get our revenge later."

"We?" Toombs had replied, shooting a glare towards the batarian. "The deal was that I'd get the final say over what to do with Shepard."

"Plans change."

"Well it'd better change back!"

Rifles were armed and aimed, as tension flared between the two partners. Each side had began yelling at one another, baiting the other into firing upon the enemy.

"ENOUGH!" Balak had yelled, and the infighting died down. However, the rifles had still been aimed at the opposing group. Neither side were willing to let their guard down.

"Not to interrupt…" Shepard had spoke out, causing all rifles to turn in his direction. "But all this bitching is making my eyes tired."

"Stand down." Balak had commanded, and his men had followed that order, lowering their rifles, and returning to their posts. Once they had done so, Toombs had ordered his men to do the same.

"Toombs." Balak had called. "Walk with me. We've things to discuss."

The two had exited the room, leaving Shepard alone, with only a few guards. With the immediate threat gone, Shepard lost his will to keep his eyes open, and feel into a brief state of unconsciousness.

* * *

_12:57, P.M. _

* * *

"MURTOCK!"

Jack had slammed him against the wall with her biotics, her anger increasing by the second.

"Jesus Christ! Calm her down!" Lori had called, but to no avail. Dorian was in no rush to be thrown about like a ragdoll.

"The hell are you doing!" Murtock kicked at the air below him, trying to get some balance against the wall he'd been violently smacked against.

"I swear to GOD, if I find out you did this..!"

"I didn't even fucking know he was here! Goddamn!"

"Jack, put him down." Dorian pleaded. "Even if he did do it, killing him's not gonna solve this problem." Jack had shot a look towards him, as he continued. "We need to access the situation. We'll determine fault later."

Murtock was slowly let down, Once his feet had reached the floor, her moved to more solid ground, to try and plant himself there, in case Jack felt the need to push him around, again. Lori had moved further into the lounge, once the danger had passed, attempting to clear up the situation at hand.

"Alliance was just at my office, a minute ago. They're already looking for him. You sure you didn't find anything else, Dorian?"

"I told you, I found blood on the carpet. I called you."

"Are you sure? You didn't see anything else that could tell us who did this?"

"You want to go check, fine. I'm telling you what I saw."

"You guys do that." Jack had said, pushing past them both, to head out of the lounge.

"Jack!" Dorian had called after her, but she did not listen, the doors had slammed open, as Jack had taken her leave.

* * *

_2:11, P.M. _

* * *

Shepard awoke to grunts echoing in the hallway the lead to the room he'd been in. He had seen as much, during the time he'd been strapped to a chair, in a facility he did not know of. It was uncomfortably hot, so much that the beads of sweat began streaming from his head. He could taste the salt of such, on the tip of his tongue.

A pained grunt had sounded off, in the hallway, catching Shepard's attention. Another grunt had rang out, with the sound of bodies slumping to the floor, a minute afterwards.

The lock upon the door has dissipated once more, revealing the silhouette of an armored figure, which had been moving towards him rather quickly. James had assumed it had been one of Toombs men – or rather, Toombs himself – that had entered, and was about to finish the job. Shepard had lowered his head, awaiting the final blow.

However, no gun was pulled. And no hostility was present. The figure kneeled before him, pulling out a large knife, to cut the ropes binding him to the chair. When it was done, a hand would come to grip onto Shepard's chin, raising it up, so that the apparent savior could get a good look at him.

"Damn." The figure exclaimed, it's voice feminine. "Rough times, huh?"

James had recognized that voice. And in that, he looked into the eyes of a woman he had known very well.

"Wait…Ash?"

"Up and at 'em, skipper."


End file.
